


Creeping Monster Of Tchozo

by cissoye



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Blood, Brigadier General Mustang, Captivity, Graphic descritpion of torture, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutilation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-12-13 08:18:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cissoye/pseuds/cissoye
Summary: It was just supposed to be a diplomatic visit to a small country no one really cared about until now. The why and how weren't all too clear to Roy and his team, but he guessed it had something to do with whatever was blocking alchemy. Roy would have certainly figured it out if he hadn't ended up captured and tortured.Things will only get worse from now on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you've read the warnings and are getting into this story knowing fully what to expect. My renewed interest in Fullmetal Alchemist brought this story (and a few others I certainly will update at some point). The events take place after FMAB. Roy is Brigadier General and working his way up to Fuhrer.
> 
> Warning: Sensitive Material, Torture, Blood, Sexual Abuse/Assault, Rape.  
> If you can't deal with any of this, please pass this story.
> 
> I hope I tagged the story right. I'm new to AO3 tags so, yeah. Gonna need some time to master the art of tagging (I always seem to forget what the story's about when it comes to tagging -_-)

 

The dull, bluish light swung around the room, giving full light to a wall, then another, then back. The movement was nauseating, so much that Roy had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep his stomach content down and cursed the bastard hitting the hanging light before his departure. He could still hear the asshole's low chuckle as he left, leaving Roy on the floor, too bruised and hurt to do much more than lay there for too long. Nauseous and bleeding.

Sucking in a ragged breath, he waited until his bones weren't feeling on the verge of snapping at the slightest move. By the time he had gathered enough strength to move again the light had stopped swinging and cold had grown over him again.

With gritted teeth, he pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to ignore the compression and pain in his rib cage. Inhaling deep, he moved his arms slowly and wrapped the chain around his forearms. He closed his eyes a second, bracing himself for the pain he knew would come, and pulled. His arms shrieked, the chain tightening around his skin made him feel like his bones would break and his arms tear off. Blood flow was cut, making his injured hands throb in hot agony.

He didn't hold long before losing miserably a fight he had tried to win too many times already.

How long was he here anyway, in this dark, cold, humid smelling room?

He couldn't really tell. The perpetual torture had messed up any kind of time notion he could have had and blurred every event into one agonizing and never ending moment.

Releasing a shaky breath, he unwrapped the chain from his arms and stared at his restrained ankle. The chain was so tight that it had managed to rub his skin raw despite the leather boot. Roy's insistent attempts to get free and pulls hadn't helped and he was slowly starting to admit he wasn't ready to get anywhere like this.

Finding something to pick the lock on the padlock had proven itself futile, like everything else Roy tried. His body was now a mess of blood, bruises and broken bones. His ribs were the first to snap after being taken to this place, then followed some of his fingers, and then his shoulder. Moving his right hand was atrocious, but Roy's stubborn determination was enough to ignore it and still try to get free.

_I've to get outta here._

The recurrent beatings were slowly breaking his body, though Roy found pride in the fact it still had yet to scratch at his spirit. He was still determinate to keep his mouth shut and not spill any secret these people wanted. Sure, the pain was growing every day, but he could handle it. Roy wasn't a soldier for no reason, and giving in under the torture wouldn't sit well with him.

Or anyone he knew, really.

As a State Alchemist, a Brigadier General, he was expected to hold his side of the bargain and not yield under enemy's pressure. Roy was planning to resist until his last breath even if it was the last thing he did.

They could go to hell -he would never tell them a single thing.

Though this damned land rendered him powerless, he wouldn't break and speak.

Roy knew when he got this diplomatic mission about this mysterious country in the far east where alchemy didn't exist (and really, Roy himself was beyond skeptic about it) it wouldn't be an easy fit, but he didn't know he would end up chained in a basement at the mercy of some group of criminals. Or were they criminals? Roy wasn't even sure. He didn't have enough time to figure much before ending up here.

The attack happened from nowhere. One moment Roy was discussing with his team the coming few days' schedule and plans, cozy in a quite comfortable hotel room -and the next gunshots were blazing through the door and wall and chaos was breaking loose.

Fuery was shot before they were all down to the floor, covering their heads and trying to get a shot back. Roy wasn't proud of just lying there with his hands on his head. And he was even less proud of snapping his fingers as if anything would happen. Fullmetal would so give him shit for not even _thinking_ of clapping his hand to cover them from the assault of bullets. The worst blow to his pride had had to be Riza and her amazing reflexes. While Roy was down with his hands on his head Riza had already taken cover behind a furniture, gun out.

By the time he looked up and was yelled at to _move it, sir, get your ass over here_ all his team was already armed and ready to fight. Well, everyone but Fuery, but he had circumstances, the lucky kid. Okay, maybe not so lucky, considering he had a bullet in his arm and was suffering something bad. But still, Roy wouldn't get this event on his list of achievements.

He was definitely too used to his alchemy. It hadn't even crossed his mind to get his gun when the blast had started -and even after taking cover near Havoc he still needed Riza's reminder to actually get the weapon out of its holster.

Humiliating, really.

The following moments were kind of a blur. Roy remembers a lot of fire shots (was no one getting worried about it in this hotel ? Where was the police ?), a lot of yells, from both sides, which some had been made in a foreign language Roy wasn't familiar with. Certainly a dialect, because every document stated the national language was Rogens, which sounded nothing like what Roy heard. In the midst of a freaking shooting, he made a mental note to look into it once back to Central.

Riza's shout to use his _damn gun sir_ had snapped him out of it, though he wasn't sure what shooting his gun did much. He couldn't see shit in the cloud of smoke (where was it coming from ?) and now had tears blurring his eyes. Coughs echoed all around the place, and Roy believed for the time it lasted that he would suffocate to death.

Smoke grenades, he concluded, after certainly too much time -like usual.

“Hawkeye !”

“I've got it, sir.” What did she get he wasn't sure, but Roy still felt relieved to know she did -whatever it was.

In some way Roy couldn't figure, they were outside at some point. The fresh air was a real gift from the Gate, and Roy along with his team gulped mouth full of oxygen like greedy starving beasts.

“Take cover !” Riza's voice always managed to get Roy's body into action even before his mind could think of doing so.

Another shooting happened, in which Roy contributed fairly this time -thank you very much. The vault they took cover at and leading outside the hotel court wasn't much of an ideal spot. Enemies were waiting for them outside, while the ones from the hotel were on the other side, shooting at them.

Was no one here? Why was he hearing no screams? For sure, any normal citizen would have freaked to be caught in a shooting.

This place was weird, and not only because Alchemy didn't work here.

Roy was still trying to figure why even in the coldness of his prison chained to the floor.

The next clear memory Roy had of this mess was the sudden silence. Not even a bird could be heard, and the tension grew thick around the area. A voice arising made them stiffen, breath slowing down.

“Step out Brigadier General Mustang, and your team will be let go.”

To anyone, this offer would have been ridiculous. Because, really, who would believe the guy? Anyone would have known fighting was their only option and surrendering, even as the higher officer wouldn't change a thing for his team.

But to Roy Mustang, self-proclaimed righteous asshole (Fullmetal's words, not his) it sounded tempting. Even Riza couldn't take his bullshit and smacked Roy over the head.

“Don't even think about it, sir.” She said, and the glare she pinned him with felt more frightening than the past fifteen minutes. “What do you think will happen if you surrender ?” He didn't like the implication hanging in the air. “If they don't kill us, they'll just capture us too, and then what ?”

Roy knew she was right -she was always right- but the offer to save his team was too tempting. So tempting that he had a hard time listening to the most trusted person of his life.

“Sir.” Havoc too wasn't fooled by the stranger's words, and if it should have made Roy feel stupid -well, it did, obviously- his team's safety was at stake here. And he was powerless.

It was a feeling Roy hated.

“We can handle it.” Said Havoc, re-loading his guns.

A look at Fuery nibbled at Roy's hesitation, the desire to just protect them almost getting the best of him. The kid was bleeding out, and it was his fault. These people wanted him, only him, and by not surrendering he was just making things worst for Fuery, and everyone else.

“I'm fine, sir.” Despite the kid's pallor, and the blood still oozing out of his arm and soaking through his clothes, he was still on his feet, holding his ground. Roy was impressed, though eat up by worry.

“We need to get outta here.” He said, trying to make them see reason.

“Do we have a plan ?” Asked Breda, pressing himself against the wall to get a look at the situation.

A shot was fired, hitting the ground, and Breda took back cover immediately.

“There's a truck.” He said to Roy's insistent stare. “At least a dozen of men with heavy weapons.”

“What are we going to do ?” Of course Falman wasn't made for this, though the man had gained experience through this all Homunculi thing -he was still an easily scared guy who rather bury his nose in books instead of standing in the center of a shooting.

“We get an opening and get the hell outta here.” Said Havoc and Roy wasn't too convinced by this plan.

“And how do we do that ?” Roy never liked to be the pessimist one, but really, this situation was a mess, and they were fucked. Roy knew it, his team had to know it too, but he seemed the only one ready to admit it. “If you didn't notice, our firepower is limited, just like our manpower, and from what Breda saw, I don't think we stand much of a chance.”

“Sir.” Roy had to close his eyes and inhale to ignore Riza -which he and she hated him to do.

“We'll run out of munition before they do, and then what ?” No, he wasn't getting frustrated -maybe a little- but he was mostly getting desperate to get his team out of this. “This is our chance.”

“Not for you.” She countered, and Roy didn't avert his gaze from hers.

“You can get me back after.”

“And how will we do that once taken captive, if not worse ?”

Roy couldn't contain the concern from his face, the possibility of anything happening to his team because of him making his insides churn.

“Hey !” He called, hoping he wasn't making the worst mistake of his life. “You in charge of this group.” What else was he supposed to call the guy, really? He didn't even give them a name with his offer.

“I'm listening.” Came the answer, and Roy swore he caught a hint of amusement in the voice.

“What assures me you will let my team go free if I surrender ?” Roy wasn't lying, he almost heard the bastard's smirk.

“Nothing. You'll have to take my words for granted.”

“You can't do this sir !” Fuery.

“General !” Riza, oh, dear, murderous Riza.

“What other choice do you have? Your manpower is very limited, and what will you do once you run out of munition? All in all, we will capture you General, and if you pass my offer your team will have to follow -if I feel generous enough.”

Roy's blood ran cold.

“Okay !”

“Sir, _no_!”

“Roy !” It was rare for Riza to call him Roy in the middle of a mission, and it only added to the gravity of the situation.

“You can't do that.” Thank you Havoc, for your never faltering support.

“I'm coming out.” He announced, jerking himself free from Riza's grip on his coat. Inhaling, he stepped in the open before Havoc could decide to tackle him in place and Breda could trap him in a bear like hug.

“Sir !” _Riza, I'm so sorry, but we don't have a choice._

“You made the right choice General.” Roy wasn't so sure, and even less now he could see the army before him and the man at its head.

The hell was that ?

“Come over here.” If Roy didn't hate this man already, it was now done -what with him beckoning him closer like a fucking child and sporting such smug smirk.  
“You've got me, so let my team go.”

He didn't see the men coming and was forced down on his knees, his arms yanked in his back and cuffed in place. Roy couldn't help the spark of doubt and regret awaking at the pit of his stomach.

_Did I make the right_ choice?

“Will do General, don't worry.” The bastard looked taller in such position, and more intimidating, somehow. Roy wasn't easily swayed by anyone, but something in this man's posture and overall appearance shook some of his natural confidence. “It's a pleasure to meet you.” Roy could only glare up at the bastard towering over him. “We've been waiting for you.”

It was the last words Roy registered before a jolt of electricity hit him square in the side and stayed there until he was out cold on the cobbles.

 

He woke up in a truck on the move, certainly not so long after being shocked, but Roy had no way to know what happened until there and even less if his team was alright. He had just woke up laying at the back of a truck with his hands tied in his back and a bag on his head. By the sound of it, people were with him, but he didn't feel like asking- not when the tip of a boot pressed into his back and someone's snickering ' _he's awake'_ ' arose in the enclosed place. The following snorts and chuckles only added to this growing feeling of anger Roy would have to deal with every passing moment from this point.

Roy was fairly certain by now whoever was with him in the truck were nowhere near allies. The shock gun leaving him sore and tired could have been indication enough, but Roy was an optimist, and he believed in his luck. Luck he would realize had left him on this fateful day in some hotel room in Tchozo.

He guessed he passed out again at some point, for he was jolted awake by the sharp jerk of the truck driving over an uneven road. After that, he kept a strong enough grasp on consciousness to brace himself when the vehicle stopped and people started moving. The creak of a door opening announced his near discharge from the truck, which came in the form of hands grabbing his coat and dragging him out of the vehicle.

If they'd asked, he would have got out willingly, but no, they rather manhandled him like a bag of potatoes.

Roy didn't know how he managed to get his feet under him at such perfect timing, but it avoided him crashing face first on the ground and suffering an unnecessary humiliation. The groans he got in return confirmed disappointment from the other party, and for all that defined Roy, he was proud of it.

“Get him inside.”

He would say the guys holding him used more strength than needed to drag him inside. He could feel fingers jabbing into his flesh, despite his coat, uniform jacket and shirt. It felt to Roy like they were trying to make him lose his footing, but stubborn as he was, he maintained it. Despite the fast pace and rough treatment. He walked to his future prison with his pride and brows furrowed under the bag.

A door creaked open, and once inside Roy's feet were kicked from under him and his body swung aside. He crashed in a groan and felt his shoulder shriek at the grip one of the guy still had on his upper arm. Pulling on his shoulder close to dislocation.

Considering his other shoulder had taken most of the fall, Roy figured he had too many chances to end up with both shoulders dislocated. Which wouldn't be fun.

“Don't move.” Roy wasn't really planning to, though he couldn't wait to shift in another position to release his hands trapped under him.

What he recognized as a chain was pulled and wrapped around his ankle, tight. So tight that for a second he thought he had lost any feeling in his foot.

“Here you go General.” One of the two snickered, pulling the bag off Roy's head.

“Lovely place you've got here.” He said with a look a round.

“Shut up.” Said the guy with short brown hair and muscles Roy had no doubt would hurt.

He couldn't help sigh at the uninspired reply.

“You've got a complain ?” Muscle man's steps pounded around Roy until the guy was standing right before him.

Looking up slowly, he considered his answer and tried to ignore the many jokes coming to his mind.

"Is it a real question ?"

Muscle man lost the little wits he had and stared at Roy. His face slowly turned a reddish shade as understanding came to him. Roy couldn't believe the man actually needed time to understand. He didn't ask anything complicated, but maybe for basic hand-men it was.

He somehow expected the blow, though he wasn't ready for it. The man's arm shot out, pretty fast considering his size and stroke Roy square in the head. Pain exploded in his skull and his ears rang, stunning him for a second too long.

“If you've nothing relevant to say,” Oh fuck, oh fuck -not the hair! His head was killing him, and this guy's grip was merciless, like one of a beast trying to rip its prey's head off.  
Roy grimaced at the mental image. “I'll advise you to keep this smart mouth of yours shut.” Roy groaned, working his best to ride the continuous waves of pain trying to send him into oblivion. Or make him puke his breakfast.

“Thanks, but -no offense here- but you'll understand you're not the most suitable person for me to take advises from.” He didn't comment on the guy's stupidity and lack of importance, but the words danced in his head and played on his tongue.

The hand in his hair tightened, which felt like his scalp would soon give under the pressure.

“Shut. Up.” Fuck, this guy's breath smelt awful and pulling on his head, Roy didn't manage to put distance between them.

So he gritted his teeth and willed himself to hold back any witty return.

“Good.” Muscle man shoved Roy's head away and stood up again, dusting his pants.

The two walked out without any more said and slammed the door shut before locking it. Roy couldn't help breathe a sigh of relief and irritation.

Great. This was fucking great. How the hell did this situation come to this point? They were just supposed to be on a diplomatic visit, nothing more. Roy was supposed to handle the meeting and do all the talking while his team assured his security. He hadn't been too thrilled to travel all the way to this country no one really heard about ever, but it was his orders, and Roy wasn't one to disregard direct orders.

Not with valuable reasons.

The place wasn't considered a dangerous one, though Roy never even considered going there without his team. Even if no threat were reported and no suspicious activities were witnessed. There was still the matter about alchemy not working there, and really, even if Roy hadn't wanted to take his team along, Riza wouldn't have left him a choice in such circumstances.

What had bugged him a little, and kept bugging him a lot now he was captured was why no one in Central bothered with the country before. For sure, this alchemy deprived land would and should have attracted their attention way sooner. But it seemed the Fuhrer and his Generals didn't see much more in this than an intriguing occurrence they now had to investigate and understand. And then eradicate if proven threatening. As much as Roy didn't want to reach such extreme, he still couldn't understand what took so long to only get in contact with the Tchozo's Rulers.

It was fishy, and Hawkeye admitted it too. Before shit hit the fan, they agreed on digging into the matter once their diplomatic visit over.

As it was proven, they never got the chance to, and Roy started doubting there was anyone to meet in the first place.

Anyone but these people capturing him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy's situation's not about to improve. Actually, it started bad and will end worse. He's not really helping himself, but being helpless never worked well for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refer to Chapter One for Warnings. They'll apply throughout the story.

The hour following his arrival to what would be his cell for an indeterminate amount of time was spent trying to get his hands free, then leg, before just giving up because he was going nowhere. Having his hands in his back was far from helpful (which was the point, he knew) but the chain prevented him to get them before him, and he didn't like having nothing to work on.

Roy was never one to just sit there and wait. He hated it with a passion and felt stupid for kicking the ring in the floor and hissing in pain the next second. His heel hadn't connected right with the metal, sending a jolt of pain up his leg.

_Idiot._

Sighing again, Roy hung his head down and tried to find a comfortable enough position.

There was none.

Fuck it.

They could have tied him against a wall like any usual criminals. Or a chair. Even a pole. Roy wasn't picky at this point. He just wanted to lean his back against something. And he wasn't desperate enough to lie on his side or front just yet. He would have lied on his back if his fucking hands weren't tied here.

Really, these bastards managed without even intending to (Roy was sure) to get him as uncomfortable as possible.

They could have tied my hands to the ceiling.

He said _'uncomfortable'_. He knew perfectly there was a lot more atrocious positions he could have been restrained in. By his hands to the ceiling, like stated previously. Damn, this one would have hurt. Or by his feet, hanging like some piece of meat. Besides painful, this would have been freaking humiliating.

Well, he guessed he should consider himself lucky they just tossed him in a room with a chain around his ankle.

It could have been a lot worse.

_It's only been an hour._

Fuck, Roy hated his mind sometimes and wished he could ignore it.

Dammit ! He had to get out of here, though for now he would wait and plan. Not that he had many other options, but he liked pretending he did.

 

The room grew colder as time passed by. He had no other way to know how long it had been (somehow, all his belongings were gone, included his Alchemist watch). He guessed they searched him when he was out, and why it sent a shiver down his spine he didn't know. Certainly the concept of having things done to him while unconscious.

Okay, said like this it sounded even worse.

Roy should stop thinking, if only for a few minutes. He was getting tired of his own mind, but he couldn't shut it up.

_Dammit._

Groaning for himself, he sighed some more and shift on his other butt-cheek. The left one was already numbed, his leg not far from being too.

If only they had freed his hands.

 

He was considering standing up as an attempt to stretch his body and maybe spot something useful when the lock clacked open and the door opened. Roy drew in a breath, bracing himself for what he knew unpleasant moments to come. How many he would have he didn't know and hoped not too much, but he would try his hardest to handle it like the proud, strong State Alchemist he was.

"Brigadier General." This guy was too cheerful, and it rubbed Roy the wrong way. "Sorry for the wait, but I had some business to take care of first." Roy swore the guy emphasized the last word, as if his prisoner only came secondary, like some unimportant matter he could handle at any time.

Like Roy did with paperwork.

Being relegated to paperwork's level didn't go well with Roy's ego, though he made sure to keep the emotion for himself.

He knew these damn paperwork would get back at him one day.

Now he was just saying irrational things, and it didn't feel too bad. It distracted him a little, though he knew at the right moment he should be everything but distracted.

_Focus !_

"How have you been. Are your accommodations good enough ?" Roy couldn't help snort, because, really? This guy couldn't be serious (or he was just a dick trying to get on his nerves).

It wouldn't work. Roy's self-control was an art he had mastered over the years (and he would never let Fullmetal know what big role he played in it). This guy was in for great disappointment and frustration if his strategy was based on that.

"I've known worse. Though you're well down my list of places to be. You could work on some aspects, but I'm sure you already know all of that. I'm not your first prisoner."

It wasn't really a shot in the dark. Roy had to be stupid to think these guys weren't experienced in this shit. But he was satisfied to notice he was right, for the guy didn't deny it and merely grinned.

"I heard you had a mouth on you." The man pushed his hands in his pants' pockets. "I hope it can spill more than smart ass comments. In your own interest."

Roy's smirk was sweet and challenging.

"Don't get your hopes high. I hate disappointing people." The face of one of the two guys accompanying the leader twitched and tensed.

_Short-tempered goon, check._

"You're a sweet talker." The leader stepped closer, and Roy surveyed his advance with an unchanging expression.

This guy would need more to intimidate him.

"No wonder so many women succumbed to your charms." It wasn't the comment, but the fact the guy knew this about him.

 _How does he know?_ It was hard to shut his mind up, mostly when it was screaming so loud.

The man crouched before him, close enough that Roy could have strangled him with his bare hands if he had had the use of them.

"It must feel good to get everything you want from anyone you want." Roy didn't like the look in this guy's eyes, though he couldn't name it. It just rubbed him the wrong way.

"I can't deny it."

The man grinned, his dark brown eyes moving over Roy. As if searching for something.

"Of course, you know your assets." Again, this man managed to make Roy's skin crawl.

"Are we going to go through my whole record or you'll to tell me what you want at some point ?"

Smirking, the man pressed his hands against his knees and stood up. Roy didn't appreciate much having this guy towering over him and looking down at him, but he guessed he couldn't do much about it.

"I'm surprised, you didn't figure it already ?"

Sighing, Roy rolled his eyes and attempted to keep the blatant condescension out of his voice. Attempted being the key-word.

"Well, considering I'm a higher up from the military and a State Alchemist, and that you captured me and didn't kill me. I'll say you want information, but I'm still not fully operational on mind reading yet, so you'll have to orientate me here on what you want to know. Otherwise, I might still be here tomorrow talking about my school years. Which I doubt you're interested in."

Roy didn't miss the way Short-Tempered goon's muscles flexed and jaw clenched. He almost smirked at the thought he could rile up the guy so easily.

Fullmetal had nothing on this guy. It seemed Roy just had to talk to annoy him, and really, he didn't mean to be so proud of it. But he was. What could he do about it? He was that easy of a man.

Shouldn't be a news by now.

The leader's expression had darkened a little, and Roy guessed him too wasn't immune to his natural annoying self. He wasn't sure if it was good for him or not.

"As amusing as you are, your superior attitude is starting to get on my nerves."

Roy had to stop himself from gasping in feigned shock and held back a good 'me, superior? I never meant to' retort he knew would do nothing but antagonize his captors. Though he enjoyed annoying them, he wasn't suicidal, and he did have limits, unlike what Fullmetal believed.

He wasn't a total asshole.

"I was just making a point." Okay, maybe he didn't always know when to shut up, but he was working on it. Promised. He had been lately, maybe because of age or something. But he knew he had to work on keeping it quiet at times. For his own good.

His arms crossed on his chest, the leader sighed, and Roy knew it meant nothing good even before the man made another sound. Short-Tempered goon was already getting ready to intervene, and Roy knew he was in for some pain.

Dammit. He should have just shut up.

"Zey." It was all Short-Tempered goon needed, and the next second he was all Roy could see before a kick in his side sent him curling on himself on the floor, groaning in pain.

By the time he was moving back in a sitting position with throbbing ribs, Zey was back to his initial spot, warning eyes fixed on Roy. He almost chuckled at that. The guy reminded him of a particularly stern instructor he had at the academy -one he and Maes enjoyed messing around with at practice. It had been fun, though made them run too many laps in Roy's liking.

It had been worth it.

"Now," The leader crouched back at Roy's level, arms on his knees and hands crossed. "You were right, we want information. What information exactly you'll have to figure it out."

Roy's brows furrowed, and for a second he wasn't sure the guy was being serious.

"So what, am I supposed to just babble out every secret I have until you get the one you want ?"

"Exactly, yes." Roy's eyes narrowed even more, then he snorted, lowering his head to work the ache in his neck.

"Clever, I'll admit." He looked back up, straight into the man's eyes, the grin never really gone from his lips. "But I won't tell you anything."

The man smirked, but Roy didn't look away.

"Let's see about that." He stood up, sending a last look down at Roy before turning away. "Boys." He said, waving his hand, and Roy was pounded down at by two big guys having too much practice in beating people into the floor.

By the time they were done, some of Roy's ribs had snapped, his lip was bleeding, along with his eyebrow, and the left side of his face was throbbing. His coat was gone too, and his hands were free.

It was an improvement in itself. Roy would take any satisfaction at the moment.

"You just have to talk General." The voice came from an indistinct direction and opening his eyes, Roy saw the leader crouching beside him again. Though now he was lying on his back and breathing heavily. "We'll stop once we've what we want."

Roy managed a low chuckle out of his numbing mouth, and his jaw ached.

"Already told you, I won't tell you anything."

The man smiled, but it was nothing but dangerous and vicious. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn't tell who.

"Then we won't stop."

The guy wasn't lying. As soon as he stepped away again the two goons were back on Roy, pulling him up on his feet and punching him in the stomach.

He lost count at three and crashed on his knees at something like eight maybe. He couldn't be sure, he lost count, remember? It wasn't the point though. The thing was that the still nameless goon holding his arm didn't let go of his right one and pulled it high when Roy fell on his knees.

A punch to the head knocked him to the floor, and his right arm didn't follow.

The pop resonated in his body, sending powerful pain through his body. Roy had to slam his hand against the floor and bite his tongue to keep quiet. But the guy made it hard. He didn't let Roy's arm go and kept pulling it back, as if he hadn't enough.

Roy was at that to scream, when finally the goon stopped moving his arm. He didn't release it either, but at least he wasn't trying to tear it off Roy's body anymore.

"You think that hurts ?" Who was talking? He didn't know this voice, though it sounded familiar? Maybe. He didn't know nor care. "We've barely gotten started."

Roy couldn't help it, he snorted. Zey was the very description of stereotypical bad guy novel, with all the cheesy lines and vicious blows coming with.

Nameless goon must have had something against Roy's response because he pulled on his arm and got a groan out of Roy. Fucking bastard! He could have warned him.

"Talk." Could this guy stop spitting in his face? Thank you.

A hand in his hair pulled his head back around, forcing him to face Zey. To say the least, the guy's face wasn't the thing Roy wanted to see from up close.

"Don't ignore me." How old was he, five ? Roy could have laughed if nameless goon hadn't twisted his arm again.

 _FUCK!_ Just stop it already.

Roy worried he wouldn't have his arm anymore when they would be done. It was feeling more and more like this guy was trying to tear it off his body. Like one dislocating a chicken thigh and tearing it in half.

"We won't stop until you talk."

Really ? That was all?

Roy could do that.

"How often do you go to the gym to have muscles like this ?" The question was surprising enough for Roy to carry on. "It must be a lot. I know someone twice your size, but he never told me how long it took to get to this point. Hell, he's even trying to claim it's all natural. I don't believe it, I'm sure you don't either. Who would, really ? Muscles need work to gain mass. And it's an insult to everyone else working their ass off to shape their bodies in such way. Like anyo-"

_Took long enough._

He didn't believe Short-Tempered goon had it in him to let him talk so far. He had expected to get cut off by a punch in the mouth at _'Hell'_ , but they let him talk, and Roy felt proud to have gone so far, somehow. He knew it was no reason to be proud, not now he was laying down face first on the floor with blood in his mouth and some foot pressing against his back. But he couldn't help it. His ego was flattered by anything, as small as it could be.

"Stop fucking around! Tell us what we want to know."

Would be hard considering Roy had no idea what they wanted to know. He guessed this and that. They must be interested in anything they could get about Central's secrets for future use. As clever as such interrogation strategy was, it made Roy uneasy. Not because he was afraid to talk (he won't) but because he discovered an enemy he didn't know Central had.

This land was nothing much. Just a place behind mountains offering a natural barrier against enemies and boarded by water on the other side. Xing people apparently enjoyed it for tourism, despite how secluded and small the country was. The population living their life with no trouble was rumored to be nice, from what Roy had read. No one in Amestris had bothered going there or keeping tab on it until recently.

Why, Roy wasn't sure, and it got him thinking.

A punch to the head knocking his skull against the floor stopped the cession for the day. Roy passed out, these people left, and he woke up with one hell of a headache and agony in his body. To say the least, they had done a number on him in little time, but he would still say nothing.

It wasn't a beating, nor several that would change his mind.

 

His resolve was tested to its limits. He wasn't sure after what he guessed to be the third day how many times they had beat him, but at the end of it four of his fingers were broken, and more ribs had snapped. His face was swollen and bruised, to the point moving his jaw hurt like a bitch and blinking didn't feel any better. He was surprised none of his eyes was swollen shut, but he had to admit they mostly hit him in the mouth after knocking him out cold for the second time.

Hallens, the leader, ordered them to watch it and stop hitting him in the head after that, certainly fearing they would kill him too soon.

And here he was now, still tied up in this fucking room with no way out. He was fairly certain three days had passed, and he was still here. It scared him too much to think his team hadn't made it back to Central.

Were they killed? Captured ?

Not knowing was driving Roy crazy, but he wouldn't let these people know. They didn't need to know. He found reassurance in the fact they would have rubbed it in his face if his team had been here too. He didn't believe anyone would hold back such leverage.

They had to be back to Central.

 _Or dead_. Shut up! They weren't dead. He didn't want to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review and leave kudos if you enjoy the story. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It keeps getting worse. Roy's not about to give in- he can't, but the pain is mind-numbing and there's no keeping a strong facade when torture makes you wish to just die. He may be scared. He may be hurt. But he's still Roy Mustang- and if the last thing he does before dying is keeping every military secret safe, then he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One Warning still apply.  
> Be aware: this chapter contains Graphic Description Of Torture and Mutilation. If you can't handle blood and pain, don't read it.

A routine was set.

Hallens, Zey and Liam were entering the room and Roy knew he was in for yet another never ending beating session until he was passed out. His main goal by now was to manage to keep his mouth shut when he should. Not that being a smart-ass wasn't fun, but, yeah, after getting his ribs and fingers broken he admitted it wasn't all that fun either.

Was it his fault his captors had no sense of humor ? Maybe he should just be mute for the remaining time he would be here. Though it was hard to just shut up with these goons. They were making it too easy, and Roy was the one suffering the consequences in the end.

_Assholes._

He doubted they were doing it on purpose (he didn't believe they had the cleverness to do so) but Roy couldn't help resent them for that. If they weren't giving him so many opportunities, he would be able to keep it quiet.

“Are you thirsty ?” Roy wasn't sure if it was a trick or not but considering he wasn't given anything since he was here, he presumed they were genuine. So he nodded, a low affirmative noise rolling out of his throat.

Hallens' head jerked forward as he snapped his fingers. Zey stepped to Roy with a water bottle in hand before crouching before him, wary eyes watching his every move. The guy's scowl didn't change as he handed the bottle to Roy and stared at him. It was unnerving and sending a glance up at the leader, Roy looked at the bottle in his hand, inwardly wondering if anything was put in it. He wouldn't be surprised.

“Drink.” Roy glared up at Zey who thought he could order him around.

They battled for victory, their glare intensifying with each passing second. It crossed Roy's mind how immature they were being at the right moment, and it got a smile out of him. He guessed Zey interpreted it wrong because the next second a fist was kissing Roy's mouth and sending him down in a gasped 'Fuck'.

“Zey.” Hallens' warning was enough to stop the man from hitting again.

Pressing his tongue against his teeth, Roy nodded to himself when all were still here. They had loosened his molar already with their punches, and Roy didn't want to lose his teeth.

Not that they mattered more than any other body parts in this shitty situation, but somehow, he liked having teeth.

_Focus !_

Ah, yeah. Focus. He had to focus. It was crazy how distracted he was since he was here, though it was the last thing he should do. He couldn't help it. His mind was being one hell of a talker since he was in this room, and it was hard to ignore it. Unlike his captors.

Fuck ! What was the hair pulling for? Did he do something to offend them again? He couldn't think of anything.

“Drink !”

Fuck ! This asshole was really trying to knock his teeth off. The bottle's neck was hard against his front teeth and cut into his gum. If not for the grip holding his head still, Roy would have jerked it away and spat blood in this bastard's face. Instead, he struggled to swallow the water forced into his mouth too fast. He choked on it once and cursed the asshole on several generations.

More than _really_ unpleasant, this shit was humiliating.

His instincts were long to react, and by the time Roy's hands grabbed Zey's arms and attempted to get him to let go, the bottle was almost empty and Roy's shirt was soaked.

Awesome. Fucking awesome. Now he would be even colder -all he needed, dammit.

Zey shoved Roy's head away once done, and gasping, he caught himself on his forearm and left hand.

Bad idea. Really BAD IDEA! FUCK! How could he forget about his shoulder? Dammit.

Rolling on his right side, he breathed through his nose and tried to control the electrifying pain. He heard a chuckle not far from him and presumed it was Zey.

Asshole. As if Roy needed any more reasons to hate this man.

“It didn't have to happen.” Footsteps came closer, and gritting his teeth, Roy pushed himself into a sitting position.

“No, it really didn't have.” He sent a glare at Zey then looked at the leader. “You've some temper issues around here you should consider consulting for.”

Shut the fuck up, dammit ! Why was his mouth always running like that ? Roy started wondering if he was suicidal, or masochist.

Hallens huffed a smile, slight amusement dancing in his eyes.

“And you've some listening issues you should take care of, General.” Roy didn't like the tone and clenched his jaw, knowing soon enough torture would befall on him. “Is it the age or are you just stupid ?”

The insult shouldn't sting, but it did, and Roy hated it.

Flashing a grin, he hugged his left arm against his side and stared at the leader.

“Quite honestly,” He let expectation build, though he could feel the three men's growing irritation. “I'm starting to wonder too. It's not like I haven't been trying to shut up, but your goons make it too easy.”

Imaginative Riza Hawkeye slapped Roy across the face and snapped at him what an idiot he was.

Roy grew annoyed with himself too at this right moment.

Zey didn't waste time to react but was stopped by Liam before he could make a full step forward. Roy thanked the man inwardly and promised he wouldn't go too hard on him when the opportunity to kill all of them would present.

“Do you enjoy pain, General ?”

“Not that I know of.” Hallens' gaze darkened, letting Roy know foreplay was over, and a shiver ran down his spine.

“You should really consider keeping in check this attitude of yours. Unless you do enjoy suffering.” The grin stretching the leader's lips was frightening, and Roy couldn't help the snake comparison.

Once every emotion under tight hold, Roy sighed, his act still up -for his greatest disarray.

“Are we still doing that ?” He played it nonchalant and unconcerned, though inside he was already screaming. Screaming for him to stop it and shut the fuck up.

Turning around once near the door, Hallens, with his hands in his back, smiled at Roy.

“Yes, we are.” Roy swallowed, trying to brace himself for the coming pain. “Boys.”

Fuck. Roy didn't know it could be so torturous to anticipate torture, and yet here he was, feeling sick in his stomach at the only thought of more.

“Fuck.” He gasped at the first kick catching him in the guts.

Roy curled up instinctively, his arms shooting up to his head and his legs folding over his stomach. One of the goons was in his back, kicking him, and it didn't take long for Roy to recognize Zey. It occurred to him how horrible it was that he was already able to identify what blow came from who -and at this point, he was certain he was beaten too much in too little time by these two guys.

Maybe he should do something about it, but he had no idea what. They wanted him to talk, and Roy would die before spilling anything valuable. They were at a dead-end, and he wondered how long they would keep this up.

Were they just planning to beat him to death? Even if it meant getting no information? Roy wasn't sure and it scared him. Even if he tried to not be, he couldn't help it, and the panic taking him at the throat was out of his control.

Roy must be hallucinating because it seemed the beating stopped too soon. Way too soon. Roy was barely bruised anew, and the pain was bad, but not numbing.  
Opening an eye, he peeked over his arm at the leader now standing beside Liam and relaxed reflexively.

They weren't hitting him anymore, it was reason enough to relax.

“Hold him down, boys.”

He was too slow to react, and by the time he understood what was said two pairs of powerful hands had yanked him on his stomach and pinned him there, arms stretched on the sides. Two knees were pressing against his sides, and it fucking hurt. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his forehead against the cold concrete and tensed up at a sudden noise.

Somehow, he already knew it didn't mean nothing good and the knife he saw in the leader's hand made a ball of dread fall in his stomach.

What was he going to do? Cut him? Stab him?

Hallens stepped closer, and Roy had to will himself to stay still and not struggle. They would be too happy. The man knelt beside Roy's right hand, and no matter how much he tried to make a fist he couldn't. Liam was pressing his palm on the floor too hard, and he couldn't move his hand. Not with a hurt shoulder, not in his state.

“You've broken fingers.” Roy stiffened, his respiration shortening.

The knife met the swollen skin of his forefinger and middle finger, and Roy forgot how to breathe. The cold metal was a worrying contrast to his heated damaged hand, and the blade now pressing against his flesh announced nothing good.

_He's going to cut my fingers off. He's going to cut off my fingers ! Oh, _God-__

Roy tried to swallow the bile coming up his esophagus and get under control his respiration, but panic was growing and he couldn't do anything about it.

He couldn't do anything about any of the things happening at the right moment.

“ _Fuuu-ck_ !” Bone crushing under the pressure of the blade registered before the pain, and Roy screamed, feeling his phalanx give and rip apart from his little finger. The knife was sharp, as sharp as this kind could be, and it was the problem -this knife wasn't made to cut through bone and flesh. It wasn't made for torture, and Hallens had to insist and saw again and again until the top of his little finger detached from the rest.

Roy wanted to vomit. He wanted to vomit and scream and cry but did none of that. Instead, he gritted his teeth almost to the point of breaking the loose molar and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on breathing and nothing else.

“Hum… it's not working that well.” Roy sucked in a breath, trying to keep it as steady as possible. “Whatever.” For the shortest fraction of second in the world, Roy had the hope the man was done, but the knife pressed down against the second phalanx of his little finger and the torture started again.

It was worst than the first time. One because Roy knew what to expect and second because the bone here was thicker and bigger and the knife COULDN'T FUCKING CUT THROUGH IT!

_Oh, God…_

Roy was going to be sick. Hallens was striving on the second phalanx but was getting nowhere. All he did was cut open the flesh and press the blade against the bone and nerves without never managing to cut through. The man used more strength, and Roy felt the bone snap in half, eventually giving in. The remaining torture wasn't any better, and the man cut through tendons and tissues like an inexperienced butcher.

Roy's vision was darkening, and he caught himself chasing after unconsciousness.

“Let's finish it.”

Roy passed out half way and when he woke up, alone in the room, his hand was wrapped in a now bloody bandage.

He passed out again not long after.

 

Blood loss combined with starvation and poor treatment was certainly why Roy didn't wake up to the sound of the door unlocking and opening. Though the three men weren't careful or quiet, he still didn't wake up and laid on his right side, curling on himself. This room wasn't getting warmer, and Roy was getting colder. His shirt hadn't even dried completely, staying uncomfortably humid against his body. He woke up to someone nudging him in his broken ribs, his gasp morphing into a deep wet cough he couldn't help choke on.

Great. He really needed to get sick now.

He almost sighed but was too tired to do so.

“Well,” Hallens' head tilted to the side, trying to level Roy's gaze. “Still nothing to say ?”

Closing his eyes softly, energy left Roy's body at once, letting a small sigh pass his lips.

“Just get over with it.” He managed out, his voice sounding raspy and too low.

“What, no smart-ass comment today? What about this infamous tongue of yours, nothing to say this time ?”

With half opened lids, Roy stared passed the leader's feet at some crack on the floor. He was in no condition to play this game today, and he just wanted to be alone and sleep.

“Did we break you ?” Roy couldn't help the snort, though it jolted his broken ribs and made him grit his teeth in pain.

Hallens smiled, and Roy felt a shiver cross his body.

“Yeah, I thought so. You need a lot more than that, right, General ?”

“Are ya goin' ta talk all day or jus' get over with it ?”

Dammit.

Closing his eyes in defeat, he couldn't help shiver at the perspective of more pain.

“Here we are. I was getting worried.” Roy groaned low in return, having no energy to do much more. “I think your tongue will be the last thing I take once I'm done with you.” Roy's eyes snapped open at the sound of the flipping knife, and before he could stop himself he was jerking away and struggling against Liam and Zey holding his arms.

“Get off me.” He snarled and kicked out at Hallens, but the bastard wasn't close enough and Roy hated him and wished looks could kill.

“Get him down, boys.”

“No !” He pulled away and fought with everything he had, but he was no match against the two men. They yanked him forward on his front and pinned him there, despite his struggles and demands. “Fuck off !”

He had enough time to fist his hands, despite the agony it brought on him. It was better than experiencing something like that ever again.

Someone kneed him in the side, and the pain not only made Roy gasp but allowed the bastard to pin his left hand flat against the floor. He wouldn't let them torture him and do nothing this time, and his struggles must have been bothersome enough because Zey sat on his back and pressed a hand on his neck, almost breaking it.

It became hard to breathe, though Roy was more concerned about his fingers.

“Don't.” He groaned, pulling on his arm, but Zey was a strength of nature and held it down with not much of an effort.

It panicked Roy. This helplessness drove him crazy, and finding himself faced with such atrocious torture again terrified him more than he would ever feel comfortable about.

“I like symmetry.”

_No, fuck ! No-_

Hallens was a sick son of a bitch Roy vowed to make suffer before killing him. He would make him burn slowly and make him feel every moment of it. The caress of flames, the suffocating invasion of smoke, the pain of melting skin. He would make him experience everything at the slowest pace possible.

He swore it on his life.

Unlike his right former little finger, the one on his left was broken, and the pain was worse. Every little shattered piece of bone seemed to rub and tear into his flesh, and though the bone was easier to cut -from what he could get through the delirium of pain and terror- it did nothing to make it more bearable.

If Roy had had anything in his stomach, he would have puked it out. Instead, he dried heave and choked on his own, trapped under a too heavy body and suffocating fingers pressing against the tender flesh of his throat.

By the time they let him go, he wasn't moving anymore. Though he was still breathing. They left him to his misery and must have returned at some point, but he was long gone by that time.

He was awoken (what felt way too soon) by rough hands pulling him up and forcing him to his feet. Roy was half out of it, but he realized he was moving -walking, somehow, and he couldn't help wonder where he was going.

_Home._

He wasn't naive enough to believe so, though it didn't prevent him to pray.

His shoulder was screaming in agony again at the way his arms were passed over the two goons' shoulders. It occurred to Roy the two must be carrying him more than he was actually walking, considering the height difference and his miserable state.

He certainly fainted some time between being carried and being shoved down on his back on some soft enough surface.

_A bed ?_

He couldn't be sure, but it was the most comfortable thing he had encountered since he was here. It did nothing to decrease his panic, and rough hands had to grab his arms and legs to hold them down.

The hands seemed gone, but he still couldn't move. His limbs were held down, hard, and he couldn't understand until too long.

“Calm down.” He heard from somewhere, but his panicked mind overlooked the command.

Hands were on him again, but they weren't hurting or holding him.

Cold. He was so cold suddenly. His chest was feeling particularly exposed to the unforgiving chill. A little sting in his arm wasn't enough distraction from the hand Roy could feel lingering on his stomach. Feeling scars and muscles.

Then he was out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed and thank you for the kudos. Please, keep showing your support, it helps.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy's captivity is about to take a new turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the Rape/Non-Con elements come into play.  
> You are warned!

He gained back consciousness to a pressure on his lungs making it hard to breathe. Coughing and panting, he tried to roll on his back, but agony shot through his body, so he laid flat on his stomach, disoriented. He wasn't sure what just happened, but what he knew was he couldn't lay on his back. If he was trying, pain was awaking in his mangled hands and dislocated shoulder.

Blinking tears away, he released a shaky breath and tried to remember how to inhale and exhale without feeling like suffocating. The position made it hard, if not impossible, but for a lasting moment he didn't dare to move. Didn't dare do anything but lay there, frozen in pain and agony.

To the sensation of something poking against his lung, he forced himself to roll on his side, as careful as he had ever been. He tried to remember any crucial details about his current state, hoping to not hurt himself more, but his mind was numb and slow.

He considered himself lucky when no too vicious pain assaulted him and he managed to lay on his side. Though he couldn't handle this position for long either. He had broken ribs on both sides, and more than the pain and breath difficulties, he was more worried about worsening the damages.

A punctured lung would certainly get him straight six feet under, after a slow and painful agony.

Sitting up proved itself a trial with hands held together in his back. It was then he noticed he was tied, with these damn wooden cuffs keeping his hands apart and making it impossible for him to lay on his back.

“Dammit.” Were they trying to make it worse on him ? He guessed they were, because he couldn't think of any other reason to use such kind of restrains on him. He hadn't been a threat so far, and certainly wouldn't be now.

_It's just another torture._

Roy felt drained by the pain, and he wasn't sure how much more he would handle. He wouldn't talk, that, he was certain, but he was getting worried about dying. He didn't know these people's goal, didn't know their tolerance's threshold, didn't know how valuable he was to them. He didn't know shit, and it must be the first time in his life he was so clueless.

His only hope was his team, but he didn't even know if they were still alive, and if yes, were they even free to help him ? His plan was based on their capacity to go back to Central and gather enough manpower to get him back, but days were passing, and he was still held captive, more hurt with each passing moment.

_I need to get outta here._

He didn't know how, and now his hands were rendered useless by the cuffs, he knew even less. At the sound of the key in the lock, Roy tensed up and listened as the door opened.  
He expected the usual three set of distinct footsteps, but heard only a brief one before the door was shut again. Looking up, he found himself alone with Hallens and wondered what it could mean. Was it good or bad ? Was it the end for him ? Why would the man show up on his own ?

Not having answers made Roy's heart beat too fast.

“It occurred to me I might kill you too soon.” Blinking, Roy stared at the grinning man stepping closer, and said nothing. “So I got you fixed up a little.”

Now the man mentioned it, Roy realized the chain wasn't around his right leg anymore, but the left. And that his boots were gone. Did they bandage his ankle ? His hands were wrapped too, and his shoulder didn't feel so odd anymore, though it still hurt. His face wasn't so sticky either, as if the blood was cleaned off.

“Did you have to take my boots ?” He must be kind of out of it, because, as he stared down at his feet it was the only thing coming to his mind. As if it had any kind of importance, to not have his boots anymore.

_Makes it harder to run._

Right. So he wasn't so out of it, if he could still think about future escape details. Though it would be better to come up with a plan first, it was still great to anticipate eventual inconveniences. And the list only kept getting longer, what with him being tortured every single day.

Hallens snorted, observing Roy, and with his hands in his pockets, he crouched before him.

“Doc said it wouldn't help healing to have them on.”

Oh.

Roy nodded, eventually looking away from his chained leg. His eyelids were heavy, and his mind was fuzzy, as if he had drank too much, slept some of it off but woken up too soon.

“It's one hell of a scar you've got on your side.”

Roy blinked, trying to compute and process the words, but the fingers brushing hair out of his eyes were distracting.

He blinked again.

Hallens chuckled, soft and amused.

He didn't know what was so funny, and didn't try to figure it. He had a hard time enough focusing on what was going on.

“What happened ?”

“Burnt myself.” He didn't mean to answer, but he was so tired, the words came out of his mouth even before he could think of keeping quiet. He just wanted to be left alone, to sleep and recover. If having Hallens here on his own meant Roy could expect some peace of mind, then he was ready to give as little as he allowed himself to.

Hallens' lips stretched, his eyes boring into Roy.

“So it's true.” The man's hand fell on Roy's good shoulder. “You do enjoy suffering.”

He grimaced at the comment, remembering the lick of flames on his skin, the intense heat burning flesh, the hot white pain making him faint twice in little time. It had been everything but enjoyable, and Roy sure had no fondness for pain.

This man was just sick.

Hallens leaned in Roy's face, and the sudden proximity made him hold his breath and stiffen in place.

“Or do you ?” The leader's forefinger pushed Roy's chin up, adding to the growing discomfort in the pit of his stomach.

“I don't.” He said, turning his head away and leaning as far as he could in an attempt to put distance between them.

Roy's hazy eyes searched the man's face, looking for any kind of hint for what was to come. But he found nothing more than the usual sick, unpleasant glint making his skin crawl.

“What do you want ?” His throat hurt, and some water would be welcome.

“Hum ?” One of the man's eyebrow rose, his smile taking a darker tone making Roy's chest tighten.

“You're here alone.” He said, blinking the heaviness of his eyelids away. “You don't torture me without your goons, so, what do you want ?”

The man's hand on Roy's shoulder squeezed, the smile on his lips turning into a smirk. Fingers grabbed his chin almost gently, and pulled him closer. Blinking, Roy needed a moment longer to understand, and when the leader's face leaned into his, lips moving in such way he had no doubt of the intention, he pulled away -hard. Certainly too hard.

He crashed on his back, the wood of the cuffs bending and pressing into his spine and the bone of his wrists, threatening to break them.

“Fuck !” He gasped, rolling on his side and trying to remember how to breathe through the pulsating agony.

“Easy there.” The man chuckled, standing up to step closer.

Roy kicked out and Hallens chuckled, smirking. Ignoring Roy's struggles and attempts to hit him, he took deliberate slow steps, stalking him, cornering him.

“Don't be like this, General.” He grabbed Roy's flying leg and crouched down in his back, pinning it to the floor.

Roy inhaled sharply, feeling the man behind him.

_Too close._

“Get the fuck off me !” He tried to kick out again and push himself away, but Hallens leaned over him, his thigh against the back of Roy's and his hand flattening on his pants button. “No!” He tried to buck away but pain pinned him down. “Don't.” He panted, the position making it painful and difficult to breathe through the growing panic.

“Just talk, and I will stop.”

Roy's lips sealed, pursing into a thin line. Hallens chuckled, leaning over him closer, his fingers working on the pants button.

Roy sucked in a sharp breath, trying to keep under control this overwhelming panic wrapping around his body.

“Don't.” He groaned, trying to buck the man off of him, but Hallens remained there, leaning over him, too close for comfort.

“Just tell me what I want to know.”

The buttons gave in, the zipper following soon after. Roy's mind shrieked, his body burning to just do something to get away.

A hand moved into his pants, fondling his cock through his boxers.

“I don't know what you want to know !” He snapped, losing before the overwhelming feeling of panic and helplessness.

“Just talk.”

Roy couldn't do that. This man knew it, they both knew it, and this sick turn of event had no other purpose than degrade him and humiliate him -knowing he wouldn't crack just yet, but would later, if hurt enough.

“These military secrets of yours can't be worth all this.” Hallens leaned over Roy's face, breathing on his cheek, and he felt his insides churn in disgust.

A spark in Roy's lower abdomen let him know the man's ministration wasn't passing completely unnoticed, and he hated his body for being so weak.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to turn on his stomach and press himself into the floor, if only to get this man's hand off of his dick. But Hallens' weight pressed into his side, pinning him in place and sending new agony through his chest and shoulder.

Roy's breathing became too erratic almost at the same time his cock showed reactions to the man's attention. He wanted to puke, and closing his eyes on the moment, he pressed his forehead against the floor and tried to think about anything else.

“You like it.”

Shut up. Shut the fuck up !

The hand slid up then plunged into Roy's boxers, and it was like a punch to the guts, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Groaning, he attempted again to roll on his front, and the man let him. Surprise didn't last long when the next moment an arm round his waist pulled him on his knees, Hallens pressing against his behind.

_Oh no!_

The hand in Roy's pants pulled his cock out, jerking it faster and harder. His face flushed as pure humiliation and self hatred washed over him. Torture was one thing, _this_ was another. He could handle torture, could handle pain.

He wasn't sure he could handle this.

_Not this, please._

The position was strenuous on his hurt, tied body, and his arms in his back pulled on his shoulders too much, making his ribcage close around his lungs too hard. He couldn't breathe and couldn't think through the pain and despair.

Everything hurt so much.

“So it's true.” Hallens leaned against Roy's back, making it even more atrocious on his weakening body. “You're the military's little bitch.” The man chuckled lowly, sounding lascivious. “I was wondering if the rumors were true,” The man's wrist twisted, sending an unwanted forceful wave of pleasure up his lower abdomen.

Roy tried to swallow the moan, but it turned into a groan not even the man missed.

“Looks like yes. Now I wonder how many times you went on your knees to be where you are.”

Roy wanted to scream. Scream at this man he never did such thing and he was just a sick perverted son of a bitch he would kill with his bare hands. But he could barely breathe without suffocating, so talking wasn't an option.

“Must've been a lot of time, right, _Brigadier General_?” Hallens' taunts and jags sounded wrong and degrading. “A hell of a title for someone as young as you, isn't it ?”

Fuck. His orgasm was building.

_No no no. Oh fuck no! No._

“You're quite a show if you ask me, I can't blame them for wanting this from you.”

_Stop, just stop!_

“You're close, aren't you ?” He heard the smirk in the man's voice and closed his eyes on burning humiliation and shame. “Does it feel good ?”

_No._

It really didn't. Pleasure wasn't supposed to hurt so much. It wasn't supposed to feel so bad. Roy wanted to hit himself for only having any kind of reaction to this man's touch.

“Tell me !” Hallens' voice took a more dangerous note, but Roy was too distracted to notice, and gritting his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get some control back.

The hand clamped around his erection, clenching too hard, and Roy gasped, jerking at the sudden pain.

“Tell me it feels good, and I won't go any further.” Leaning over Roy again, Hallens' breath on his face was sickening, but not as much as the bulge pressing against his ass.

_Oh God- No!_

Roy's breath hitched, both options turning his insides and making his skin heat in shame and humiliation. He didn't want to give any kind of satisfaction to this sick pervert, but he didn't want him to get any further. It hurt to only give so little, and he couldn't keep his eyes open for such painful surrender.

“It feels good.” He said low and raspy, and Hallens' smirk turned predatory.

“Does it now ?”

Fucker ! _I will kill you._

“Yes.” The hand was still clamped around his erection, and it hurt.

“You want me to continue ?”

Roy shook, drawing in a breath.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

_You're a dead man ! You're a fucking dead man, and I swear I will make you hurt._

“More.”

“Open your eyes.”

_Fuck you ! Fuck you and your sick game._

Roy's eyes cracked open, staring before him at the floor.

“Do you want me to make you cum ?”

Roy cringed inwardly at the word.

“Yes.”

“Say it.” He almost sighed at the expected command, but it didn't hurt less.

“I want to cum.” He didn't want to see it, but Hallens' grin was wide on his face, too wide.

“Do you now ?”

“Yes, please !” He closed his eyes, regretting losing it like that, and swallowed a swelling sob. “Just get over with it.” He was so tired, and trembling, he stared back at the floor before him, praying this man would eventually stop.

The hand resumed a slow movement on his cock, bringing it back to full erection. Roy swallowed thickly, hating every second of it.

Roy's body stiffened, the orgasm building back.

“Are you close ?”

_Just shut up!_

“Yes.” He said through his teeth, glaring at the floor and trying to focus on everything but the man on him and the breath on his neck.

“Say it.” Hallens' voice hitched with barely contained excitation and lust, his hips thrusting against Roy's behind like some dog in rut.

Bile spread over Roy's tongue.

“I'm close.” His throat was so tight, it hurt to talk.

“Are you going to cum ?” His breathy, lust filled words were said at Roy's ear, and shivering in disgust, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

“I'm going to cum.” Hallens' thrusts were erratic, almost desperate, and Roy couldn't believe how dirty it made him feel. Like some kind of object used for some sick perverted bastard's pleasure. He had never felt like this before, and the feeling let a stain on his body.

The grunts and pants at Roy's ear grew louder, and the hand around his erection lost any kind of rhythm, dragging him to climax almost painfully.

He came in the man's hand, the thrusts against his bottom continuing for another prolonged moment.

A hand balled in his hair, lips brushing against his ear.

“Fuck.” Hallens' hand was still around Roy's flaccid cock, clamping and jerking even though there was nothing to get out of it anymore.

Roy's dick felt raw at the insisting masturbation, and the sensitive skin pulsate in hot pain, forcing him to bite the inside of his lip.

_Stop._

Hallens' body shook against Roy's, his grunts taking a lower note as the man came into his pants, his hips still thrusting forward, claiming more friction and stimulation.

“Fuck.” He breathed at Roy's ear, weighting against him too much.

His neck was about to break, and his shoulders were shrieking in agony.

_Get off me!_

“Fuck, that was good.” He said, pushing himself up on a hand to stare down at Roy. “You made a mess, General.” To Roy's ears, the title now sounded dirty, and he hated hearing it.

Hallens' hand pressed on Roy's cheek, wiping semen on his skin.

Bile rose back in his mouth, making him nauseous.

The man chuckled, his eyes burning a hole into Roy's skull. He hated this bastard's eyes on him, and he wished he could just disappear and never appear before him again.

The hand traveled down Roy's side, like a mocked tender caress. He couldn't help tense up when it pressed against his crotch again and grabbed his cock.

_Not again!_

“Relax.” Hallens laughed softly, putting Roy back in his pants before leaning his forehead against his head and ruffling his hair.

Roy froze, his eyes filling with contained horror and panic.

The man pushed himself up, and he remembered how to breathe, despite the pain. His body was shaking in exhaustion once the man off his back, and he needed all his remaining will power to not just crash on his side.

He tried his possible to be careful and not hurt himself more, but pain still flashed through his body and made itself known. He realized his pants weren't buttoned up and felt a flush crawl over his face.

_They'll know. They'll all know._

“You're a mess.” He stiffened at the man's voice and approach, and tried to not show how scared and disgusted he was by his presence. “Maybe I should take the cuffs off, so you can pull yourself together a little bit.”

Roy bit his tongue, refusing to play this asshole's game.

“Or maybe I'll let you like that and let everyone know what a whore you are. I won't mind letting them have a go at you. It wouldn't be fair if I didn't, don't you think ?”

Roy's eyes stung but he still refused to answer.

“What, did I break you for real this time ?”

“Go to hell.”

Hallens smiled, this glint back in his eyes.

“It's more like it. It's not a little handjob that will get the best of you, right, General ?” Roy shivered, pure, uncontrollable rage and anger boiling inside him. “You're used to this after all, aren't you ?”

“Why don't you fuck off ?”

Hallens' expression hardened, his brows furrowing over his darkening eyes.

Roy knew his mistake before the man lunged at him, his hand going straight for his throat and body colliding with his, forcing him down on his back.

The cuffs bent, and something cracked. Pain shot up Roy's arm, his mouth opening in a choked cry. Sitting on his stomach, Hallens' weight pressed his cuffed hands into the floor, sending him through another world of agony. Blood oozed through the bandages, adding to the dizziness assaulting him at once.

Baring his gritted teeth, Roy tried to ride the overwhelming pain taking over his body, but it was too intense, and he couldn't do anything against the tears rolling down the side of his face.

It hurt too much.

Everything hurt too much.

“Did I hurt you ?”

_Fuck you ! Fuck you and everyone working with you-_

Roy folded his legs up, pressing his feet against the floor in an attempt to buck the man off, but he was too weak, and Hallens' weight too much for him in such condition.

“I wasn't planning to torture you today, but looks like you want it.”

“Fuck you ! Fuck you you sick son of a bitch !” He didn't know he was screaming until his voice cracked and a cough ripped out of his mouth, shaking his body. “Fuck you.” Tears were still flowing, and it sounded too much like he was _crying_. He didn't want to cry, not before this man, not because of him.

But it hurt so much. Everything was too much.

“Fuck you.” He breathed, leaning on his side and pressing his head against the cold floor, trying to cool his heated skin and hide from the man.

He didn't realize Hallens was off of him and startled when hands reached for his trousers and pulled on the hem, zipping and buttoning it up. He wasn't sure what was going on anymore and stared through hazed eyes, the tears still running down his cheeks.

“You're a mess.” A hand pressed against his forehead, and he flinched away.

Hallens gave him a look didn't say anything. Soon after, he was standing up again and walking away.

Roy wasn't sure where this sudden panic came from, but it took him at the throat and left him terrified.

_Don't leave me alone-_

_Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, Falman…_

_...where are you ?_

 

Something wet and cold was pushed against his face, and he jerked away, his hands grabbing an arm and pulling on it. His lips moved, mumbling something he couldn't understand himself, but the wet cold thing remained on his face. Hands pressed down on him, forcing him on his back and preventing him to move.

He was vaguely aware of asking them to stop and leave him alone, but to no avail.

Fingers worked on the button of his shirt, and panic rose at once, sending his body into action. His hands grabbed and pushed, but his shirt still gave in, disappearing soon after.

“No.”

Distorted, mixed voice spoke around him, maybe to him, but he couldn't be sure. They did nothing but panic him more.

_Get off me._

Even his inner voice sounded lazy and exhausted.

A sharp prickle in his arm made him moan softly, but the pain was quickly forgotten and replaced by some haze wrapping around his already fuzzy mind.

Not long after, darkness claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and leaving kudos.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between dream and reality, Roy doesn't know what to believe anymore. He's losing his mind, that, he can tell, but he's not sure how to deal with it. Pain and terror make it hard to only focus, and escaping it becomes Roy's main goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings still apply!
> 
> Thank you for reading and the kudos ^^

He was shivering, cold sweat pooling on his skin, soaking through his clothes and the sheet.

_What sheet ?_

Roy shook again, mutilated hands clamping over the soft fabric of the cover. He tried to move, but couldn't. His muscles weighted tons, his eyelids were sealed shut and his throat dry as sandpaper. Roy moaned, or tried to.

Nothing but a rough noise was heard, audible to no one.

He was so cold- why was he so cold ? The floor was hard under him, the cement freezing against the bare skin of his arms. Where was his shirt ? Last time he checked he had sleeves to keep the illusion of warmness. Now, despite the fabric he could feel on his torso, his forearms were bare, vulnerable to the assault of freezing cement.

Roy tried to move, but he was numbed in cold. He couldn't feel his feet anymore (where were his socks ?), just like his hands (or what was left of them). The violent shivers were painful, torturous.

Groaning, Roy cracked open his eyes, the blurry image of his bandaged hands coming into focus. The skin color of his arms was off, ashen. The hairs stood straight, trying to fight the chill of the room. Roy tried to clench his hands, slowly and carefully. His wounds burnt and pulsed, but what froze him in place was the agony in his right wrist. Hadn't he been so out of it, maybe he would have noticed how swollen it was. The bandage of his hand covered it, but Roy could see the birth of a redness.

Was it broken ?

What happened ?

Blinking, Roy breathed in, deep and slow. For too long, he had no memory. Not a single one about wherever he was and why. He was in pain, that, he knew.

A flash sizzled his mind, bringing back images of blood, gore and torture. His breath caught at the memory of being pinned on the floor and having his hands mutilated.

He felt tears in his eyes, new shivers shaking his body hard.

Roy rolled on his back, and froze, hit physically by the souvenir of Hallens on him, touching him, hurting him and humiliating him. He choked on the memory, suffocating at the sensation of this man over him. For too long, panic went loose, threatening to make him hyperventilate. He needed what felt like a lifetime to ride the wave and get control back.

By the time he could breathe again without choking Roy was exhausted. He trembled some more and fought against the veil falling over his mind. He knew it was a lost battle at the second his muscles relaxed and his respiration evened.

_Dammit-_

 

 

_I'm thirsty._

It was the first thing coming to Roy's mind when consciousness crawled back on him. His throat was burning, begging for some water. Working his puffy tongue over his dry, swollen lips, the salty taste made him grimace.

Why were they tasting so bad ?

Tears, pain, sex.

_Right._

The memory hit him in the sternum but this time he got a grip over his panic before it could overwhelm his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling of this man on him off, but he could deal better with the images and sensations. Shifting, he stiffened and grimaced. His boxers were too tight around him, rubbing his bruised and sensitive shaft.

How was he going to explain this one ? Would they even check there ? Maybe they wouldn't. Roy hoped they wouldn't.

_I need to get outta here first._

Right, he was still far from having a plan, or even an opportunity to do more than lay there, waiting to be hurt. The thought made him shiver, and closing his eyes on pooling tears, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and forced them away.

He wouldn't cry again.

Breathing in through his nose, his body shook, but he pinned the reaction on the cold and nothing else. He refused to acknowledge anything else.

Footsteps in the corridor announced the arrival of his tormentors. Roy braced himself, but he would never manage to prepare himself for what was to fall on him.

The door was opened as he was drawing in a breath, and his usual three captors entered. Seeing Hallens made Roy shiver, and he couldn't bear looking at the man for too long. Instead, he shifted his gaze on Zey, the only one of the three not giving him the creeps. Even Liam was making his skin crawl, for some reasons. Maybe his quietness, or his steel blue eyes. Roy couldn't really tell but knew for sure Zey was the kind of man he could deal with.

All muscles and no brain with no other purpose than to hit and hurt. Typical goon, everything Roy wanted at the right moment. No more weird, fucked up shit. No more unwanted touches and behaviors. Just plain, basic blows he would take over anything else.

“Hey there,” Hallens crouched beside Roy, and it was stronger than him, he tensed up. “You gave us a scare. We thought we were going to lose you.”

With furrowed brows, Roy looked up at the man, no matter how much he did not want to do so -the words were intriguing enough for him to look pass his reticence.

“You were knocked down by a fever. Apparently, you've got an infection.” Hallens chuckled, throwing his hands up, and Roy stiffened, almost flinching. The man didn't miss the reaction, and smirked. “Can you believe it ? Don't answer that.” He said, holding his hand out as if Roy intended to answer.

He didn't. He just wanted this man gone.

“Doc said to be more careful with you if we want to keep you alive, so.” He clapped his hands, standing up, and Roy sucked in a sharp breath, tensing up.

Hallens' smirk said it all, and his hatred for the bastard enhanced, to the point of being painful.

“We're going to take it easy for the coming few days, until you're in the clear.”

In the clear ? Was this guy being serious ?

_You kidnapped and tortured me you fucking sick son of a bitch._

How the fuck did he expect Roy to ever be in the clear. In this place, in such conditions, he had no chance to.

“See, we're not complete monsters.” Roy wanted to murder this man where he stood. “Despite what you might believe, none of this is for fun,” The look Roy gave in return cut the man's bullshit and made him laugh. “Okay, maybe _we_ are having fun, but our superiors don't mean any of that. They just want information.”

So this guy wasn't in charge ? He was just another goon ? A top goon ? Roy could have chuckled, if he had the energy and capacity to. As it happened, he couldn't do more than lay there on his back and watch the three in the room with him.

“The longer you take to talk the longer this will last.”

“You'll be better off just killing me. I won't talk.” His voice didn't sound familiar, and he really needed to drink.

“Maybe, but it won't be as entertaining.” Roy glared at the leader and breathed through his nose.

This man was making him sick in the stomach, and if he could just fuck off he would appreciate.

“Besides, you've precious information my superiors want, and if you refuse to talk, we'll have to go look for them elsewhere. Maybe this team you had with you. What about them ? How much do they know ?” The look of horror on Roy's face wasn't contained, and Hallens' effect couldn't be better.

“Leave them alone. They know nothing of importance.”

“Do they now ? They work with you, they must know some things.”

“They have no clue on classified information, which I believe is what your superiors want.”

“Sure, but starting with some basic information won't hurt either. And like you refuse to talk.”

Roy wouldn't take the bait, though it was tempting. So tempting that he had to bite his tongue and drew blood.

“Still not talking ?” Hallens sighed, though he couldn't hide a grin. “Fine, so we'll have to get our hands on your little team and get what we want from them.”

As horrifying as the threat was, Roy found great relief in the fact his team was free, and alive.

_Are they back to Central yet ?_

“Don't think you're off the hook, General, we still want what you know.”

Blinking, Roy stared up at the leader and tried to not feel too small from his laying position on the floor. This man couldn't be that imposing, but ever since Roy had met him it was like he was faced to an impressive man. No matter the fact he was nothing like Armstrong, or the one he was just a man, with no alchemy. To Roy, he was the most dangerous being he had to face in a long time.

“Boys.” Roy tensed up at the command, knowing by now it meant only pain. “Go get a snack or something, I'll handle this alone.”

_No. No no no-_

It sounded worse than the perspective of a beating, or any other kind of pain these two could have inflicted on him.

_Come back !_

Liam followed Zey outside and shut the door behind him. Roy's heart raced in his chest, cold sweat breaking on his skin.

_Please no. Don't leave me alone with him._

A wet cough rumbled out of his throat, and folding an arm over his mouth, Roy closed his eyes and rode the waves of pain crossing his body.

Fuck, how could coughing be so painful ?

“So,” Hallens sat down at Roy's side, as if they weren't in a gloomy room and Roy wasn't tied down to the floor, hurt and starved. “Your current state reduce our possibilities for the time being, so I thought we could spend some quality time together.”

Roy froze at the hand clamping on his knee and tried his hardest to not just lash out.

“Don't touch me.” He rasped out, shivering against his will and supporting his weight on his wrong arm. It hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to move and face the man.

Hallens tightened his grip when Roy tried to pull his leg away. Cold horror grasped him at the guts, and memory came flooding his mind like one vicious sadistic entity trying to break him from the inside out.

_Don't. Please, don't._

“Are we at this stage now ?” The hand moved up Roy's leg, the fingers imitating a walking spider. “You refusing me to touch you. Well, flash news,” Roy couldn't brace himself for the man's swift movements, and he found himself spun aside on the floor, legs spread and Hallens between them- holding himself up on his hands pressed on both side of Roy's shoulders. “You can't stop me.”

You can't stop me.

The words resonate within Roy like a torture in itself, the truth of such statement freezing him to the bones and making his stomach churn.

You can't stop me.

It was true, he couldn't stop the man. Couldn't do shit against him, and it made him sick.

“Your only option here revolves around how much I hurt you. _This_ all depends on you.” Hallens' thighs pushed Roy's further apart, giving him more room to settle between them. And Roy froze, feeling the man's evident erection pressing against his crotch.

He had had anything in his stomach, he would have puked, but he didn't even have enough bile left to do so. And it hurt to be so powerless against someone.

“Personally, I hope you won't talk too soon.” Hallens' smirk was bone chilling and guts wrenching. “But it's all up to you, really. So if you want me to stop,” He leaned closer, and Roy forgot how to breathe and move. “You know what you've to do.” He clamped a hand down Roy's jaw, stopping him from turning his head away, and held it in place.

Roy's hands pressed against Hallens' shoulders, but the pain was still mind numbing, and he couldn't do much against the man. Not in this position.

Lips pressed against his dry ones, and Roy contemplated puking in this bastard's mouth.

“Open up.” He refused to obey and gritted his teeth, despite knowing it would get him nothing more than pain.

He couldn't just let this man do as wanted with him.

Hallens sighed against Roy's mouth and grabbed his right hand, bending it. Roy screamed, and the man swallowed the sound, his tongue forcing its way in despite Roy's resistance. Hallens twisted his hand harder when he tried to bite down, and Roy decided fighting so much against a kiss wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth the agony and mind blowing pain.

“You taste like blood.”

Roy glared in return, feeling his mouth burn after such violation. If he could have pulled his tongue out he would have.

“And I would've expected you to be a better kisser, considering your reputation.”

He knew it was stupid to be offended by such remark in such situation, but the look in his eyes betrayed him, and Hallens chuckled, smirking down at him.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He said, grunting. “But it's not like I want to kiss you anyway.” He glared with all his might, and the challenge seemed to turn the man on even more, considering the way he thrust his hips and the glint in his eyes.

“Really now ?” He leaned in Roy's face. “But what if I want you to.”

“You can go to hell.”

Hallens' smirk was chilling, and Roy was quickly reminded of his position.

“Well, then I guess your pretty blond teammate won't like her alone time with me once she's here.”

Roy froze, his eyes widening, and Hallens knew he had him cornered.

“Just play along, and I won't have to touch her.” He leaned for another kiss, and even though Roy needed a moment to think it through, in the end he just gave in and kissed back. He tried to imagine he was with any of his past conquests, but it wasn't easy with the man between his legs.

Roy just couldn't ignore the erection pressing against him.

“Okay, _that_ was good. I get your reputation now.” Roy glared, but then couldn't stand looking at the man so lowered his gaze. “I heard you were a womanizer, but I've been wondering,” Once done opening both of their pants, he laid back on Roy and met his gaze. “Do you have any experience with guys ?”

Why it hurt so much Roy couldn't tell, but the question was like a knife lacerating his flesh and leaving him raw. Exposed and vulnerable.

“What would it change ?”

Hallens grinned and Roy's pain intensified at the perspective this man could take so much from him. Could do so much to him and there was nothing he could do about it.

“You're right. But I'm still curious. A pretty face like yours, it doesn't only attract women.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, willing himself to not react to the prying. It wasn't like it mattered anyway. Either he had been with guys or not, it wouldn't change what this man did and was about to do to him. No matter how many partners he had in his life, what this man was doing to him was and would remain foreign and painful. To not say traumatizing.

“I've seen what you've under this,” He pulled on the black t-shirt on Roy. “Such body isn't only made for women. It's made to be desired, and you know it.”

“What's your damn point ?”

Hallens smirked.

“Simple,” He leaned in Roy's face and breathed down his lips. “You had it coming all along.”

It froze him in place and enraged him all at once, though the shame coming with was unexpected. It still burned his insides and left him vulnerable to more abuse. Either physical or psychological. Maybe both.

Certainly both.

He knew fighting back would get him no where, but this man triggered him, and he couldn't not fight after such statement. He just couldn't let it happen and do nothing about it, and the bastard seemed to be enjoying Roy's reaction. As if he was anticipating it. Expecting it.

“That's more like it.” Roy heard at some point when he was twisting his body away and trying to get away from the man on him. Strong hands were around his forearms, holding them, and the pain in his wrists made it hard to do anything but struggle blindly.

He couldn't punch or use his hands and he was so fucking powerless that he felt disgusted with himself.

_I'm useless. I'm fucking useless._

Black spots danced before his vision, the veil falling over his mind making it hard for him to coordinate his movements. His breath turned shallow, deafening in his ears. He could feel himself drifting away, passing out. The strain and pain were too much, too much for him to resist in his weakened condition.

He hadn't eaten in days, only had water once from what he knew and his muscles felt sore at every movement. They felt old, rusty, as if moving wasn't natural anymore, and fighting even less.

Roy didn't know if Hallens noticed any of that, but soon he found himself spun around on his front, with the man pressed on his back -hand down his pants.

_NO!_

He couldn't move. The world kept shifting from a big black hole to a nauseatingly swinging image, and he had no strength left. Everything was hurting. Throbbing. Shrieking. And his skin was burning.

Was he feverish again ?

_So much to take it easy with me._

Roy's body turned into a shivering mess, the cold of the floor too intense against his burning body, and he could do nothing about the shivers making the hairs on his body stand up. It hurt, and Hallens' contact on his heated skin was horrible. Every brush made him hurt and shiver harder, noises he refused to associate with himself passing his shaky lips.

He was so cold and hot at the same time. The sweat was horrible on his body, cold and torturous.

A low, frustrated sigh resonated somewhere above him, and without understanding, the weight on him was gone -along with the warmth. And Roy trembled harder, his eyes closing and body curling on itself.

_It's so cold-_

The door slammed shut, and Roy startled.

_No. Don't leave me like this._

He was so cold. So hurt.

_Help me._

 

A low, amused chuckle made Roy's eyes flutter open. The sound was so familiar, so comforting in its annoyance.

“Oi, look at you here, buddy. You need a shave.”

Roy's lips stretched, though he knew he must be hallucinating. It still felt good, reassuring.

“I need more than that.” He said, his voice nothing more than a pained rasp. “How've you been ?”

“Oh, you know. Dead and all.” Maes chuckled, and despite the pang in his chest, Roy caught himself sharing the lightness of the comment. “What about you ? Looks like you've got your ass nailed.” Roy didn't mean to cringe at the chosen words, and Maes' expression saddened. “Sorry, buddy.”

“It's okay.” Even if it wasn't. Roy couldn't bring himself to state otherwise.

“You need to get outta here, Roy.”

“I know.” He took a moment to breathe and relived at the cold sensation against his cheek. “I've been working on it.”

“Have you ?”

“Don't be an asshole.” He said, grinning, and Maes smiled. “I've been quite taken if you don't know. And I still don't have any magical powers.”

“Oh ? What about this alchemy of yours ?”

“Do you think I'll still be here -would even have been here- if I had it ?”

Maes thought about it, then nodded. “You've a point. So, what's going on ?”

Roy heard his friend walk around then sit down. Though he didn't seem able to _see_ Maes, he could feel his presence, and it was all that mattered. With Maes around, everything was better. Safer.

“I wish you weren't dead.”

Maes' lips stretched in a sad smile. “I wish I wasn't too. You need me.”

The chuckle rumbling out of Roy's mouth was painful but worth it.

“I avenged your ass.” He said, remembering about Envy -and he couldn't do nothing against the hint of shame washing over him. Riza had almost shot him. He had been so close to lose his way and himself.

“Yeah, I've seen that. Don't blame yourself too bad for that, buddy, you had every rights to feel vengeful.”

“I lost it.”

“Yeah, but who wouldn't have ? You came back in the end.”

“Yeah, because Riza was about to shoot me.”

Maes chuckled, and Roy felt tears prickle at his eyes.

“She's always about to shoot you, nothing new here.”

“She was serious.”

“She always is. Don't try to play down your capacities and how far you came from. You were angry, sad and hurt. No one could blame you for losing it a little bit.”

“I do.” He didn't know if he said it out loud, and it didn't matter.

“Well, that. It's nothing new in Roy's world.” Roy smiled, focusing on the warm sensation of having Maes here. With him.

_Am I dead ?_

“You're not dead, buddy. Just really messed up.”

“Oh.” Maes chuckled, and Roy drifted away for a second.

“This guy won't leave you alone.”

“I know.”

“He won't stop.”

“I know.” His voice cracked so much his throat was clamped.

“You've to get outta here.”

“I can't. I've no way out.”

“You're Roy Mustang. You'll figure it out.”

“Before of after this guy's through me ?” Maes pursed his lips, and it said it all.

“I'm sorry you've to experience all this, buddy. I wish I was there to help you.” A tear escaped Roy's eye, and he drew in a breath, trying to control the emotion growing in him.

“I don't want it to happen.”

“I know buddy, I know.” He could feel Maes' hand brushing gently on his head, and it felt so good and hurt so bad at the same time to know he couldn't do anything about it.

“You've to stay strong.”

“I don't know Maes. I really don't know.”

“You're strong, buddy. No matter what happens, you'll always be.”

“You're not here anymore… I don't know if I'll… I don't know if I can do it.”

“Yes you can, and you will. You're too stubborn not to.” Another sad smile flashed on Maes' lips, and between tears and pain, Roy chuckled lowly, smiling.

“I need you.”

“I know, and I'll always be here, you know that.”

“No you're not.” He breathed, feeling something pull him away from his best friend.

“I am.” The whisper was far and distant, and Roy felt desperate to cling to it and keep it close.

“Maes ?” He sucked in a breath, waiting for his best friend's answer.

But nothing came.

“Maes !”

_Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me._

I'm always here, buddy. Don't forget that.

A sob ripped out of Roy's throat, and for a moment all he wanted to do was curl on his side and cry his heart out. Cry for everything he ever lost and for everything he'll never have.

_I'm going to die._

He didn't want to die. Didn't want to suffer anymore. Didn't want this man near him ever again.

_Where are you ? Riza… where are you ? I need you all. I need you right now._

“It's okay,” A soft, gentle hand in his hair-

_No it's not. It's not!_

“Wake up.” A pat on his cheek forced a groan out of him, and squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to turn away -but pain seized his body. And he gasped, a scream dying in his throat. “Finally. I thought you were dead.”

_Who's here ?_

“Here, drink this.” Roy tried to pull away, but a hand clamped down on his neck for the edge of a cup to press against his lips. “Just drink. It'll help with your fever.”

A soft, pained noise echoed out of Roy's throat, and unable to fight the man, he parted his lips and drank the cool bitter liquid. And coughed.

“Again. You've to drink everything.”

Roy didn't want to, didn't want anything anymore, but didn't have much of a choice.

The cup was put away, and Roy caught himself dreading opening his eyes and seeing who was here with him, and where.

Somehow, it didn't feel much like the cold, hard floor of his cell. Though he still could feel the chain around his ankle, and hear it at every movements.

“You can rest. We won't bother you for a couple of days.” The man stood up and walked away.

Before he was out the door, Roy's eyes cracked open, and he recognized Liam, these short blondish hair and this greyish long sleeve shirt one the man always wore.

He was here for too long if he could recognize the man with so little.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the warnings!
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and support.

The room was average, with a bed and a chair only. The chair was in the corner at the door, out of Roy's reach, no matter how much he tried to get to it. The chain didn't let him enough length to go that far.

He couldn't deny his new accommodations were an improvement from his first days (week ?) with these people, but he couldn't bring himself to fully appreciate it.

Why would they make so much efforts for him if they weren't planning to keep him ? He didn't like the idea, though it allowed him more time to figure how to escape (or for his team to find him). The only fact Hallens was still around and wouldn't leave him alone was enough to tarnish every hopes he could have.

 

Time was a weird notion.

Roy couldn't remember what he presumed to be at least a few days, and when Liam showed up again it felt too soon. To Roy, it was like the man was here making him drink some medicine only a few hours ago.

When it couldn't be less than twenty four hours.

He was too out of it and delirious to remember much since he was in this room, but he had brief flashes of the man forcing more bitter medicine in his mouth and changing his bandages.

The glaring shift in his treatment wasn't too reassuring, though he wouldn't complain. Not being cold all the freaking time was amazing in itself already -but if atop of this they were taking care of his injuries, it could almost feel like he had went from the gutter to a five stars.

Though it was quite a stretch. Roy was still real. He was nothing more than a prisoner, no matter the fanciness of his cell. His freedom was still taken away from him and he was still at the mercy of his captors' will.

Shutting the door behind him, Liam stepped to the bed with a tray in hand. Roy didn't need to see it to know it was food, and the urge to fill his stomach was almost uncontrollable.

He was starving, and this guy was here with food. Roy would do anything to get it.

“I've some soup for you, but first, your medicine.”

Roy forced himself to sit up on the bed and accepted the handed cup with his partially okay hand. He drained it without a thought and couldn't stop himself from glancing at the trail in Liam's hand. The man must have noticed, because he grinned.

“Here you go, enjoy.” Roy almost refused the food at the taunting words, but he was too hungry, and it smelt so good.

_It's only soup._

He didn't care. It smelt like nothing he ever smelt before, and he was dying to eat it.

Liam didn't leave the room and instead brought the chair closer to sit beside the bed. If Roy wanted to glare at the man for that and kick him the hell out, he knew he didn't have a choice. They wouldn't leave him alone with anything that could be turned into a weapon. As ridiculous as a weapon a plastic bowl and trail could be.

The man's stare was unnerving, and Roy was reminded why Liam crept him out so much.

_His eyes. I hate his eyes._

It was hard to ignore the man, but he came to the conclusion making the moment drag wouldn't make it any better. The sooner he would eat the sooner Liam would be gone. Even if it meant more lonely hours in this room with nothing to do, he rather be bored than have the man around.

_At least Hallens didn't show up so far._

Roy's brain urged him to gulp down the soup, but his stomach made it clear it wouldn't handle the assault after so long with nothing in it. He needed a lot of self-control to take so little sips of soup every now and then to not upset his stomach. The first one made it churn, and he had to wait a moment before trying again.

After ten minutes he managed to take more regular and continuous sips, though Roy's stomach felt full half way through. He wouldn't risk wasting food, not when he didn't know when he would have more.

Liam could have lose patience, but he sat through Roy's meal with a never changing expression. If the small grin at the corner of his lips was annoying, Roy would take it over the unfaltering stare any given day. He hated how uncomfortable it made him feel, but he hated even more how hot his face felt under the attention.

“Looks like you enjoyed it.” Roy wouldn't even bother answering, and flashing a smirk, Liam stood up, picked up the trail, took the chair and walked out.

Roy released a deep sigh once alone and laid back in bed. He was still weak and the medicine seemed to make him drowsy. He guessed sleep was what he needed to recover, but he hated being so vulnerable.

 

Roy couldn't tell if Liam was a liar or if days had flew by so fast, but on his next waking he was taken by the two goons out of his cell straight to another room. The latter looked a lot more like the one he was held in before, but it had chairs, and chains, and many other utilities Roy never wanted to encounter.

_Torture chamber._

He couldn't help wonder why they waited so long to introduce him to this room, but then he guessed torturing someone was a slow and thoughtful process. As sickening as it was.

Roy was determinate to not give in, and even less talk. But at the sight of this room, he couldn't help the pang of worry. Worry for his own capacity to endure. He was strong, people said he was, he guessed he was (with his alchemy) but right here, in this place -he couldn't be so sure.

_I almost killed myself after Ishbal._

Roy had tried for many years to forget and erase such moment of pure weakness, but now he was there, in such condition with these people -the expected forgotten feelings came back to haunt him. And Roy remembered why death had felt so tempting back then. Maybe depression drove him to this point, but the end result was the same.

He wanted to die.

_I don't want to die._

He may not be desperate enough just yet to wish for death, but the perspective of more pain and torture made him question his own strength.

_Can I get through this ?_

A shiver crossed his body at the sight of Hallens sitting across from him. Unlike Roy, the man wasn't bound and could sit comfortably on the chair. This trademark smirk was getting on Roy's nerves, though he wouldn't let it know.

Being in Hallens' presence brought back this uncomfortable feeling of dread, and he couldn't help gulp at the memory of what this man wanted to do to him. Of what he did to him.

_He wants to fuck me._

_No._

_Ra-_

He couldn't bring himself to only think of the word. Thinking about it meant acknowledging it, and acknowledging it meant making it all too real. If Roy didn't consider it that, then it wasn't that. And if it wasn't that, it wasn't so bad.

Roy could deal with it. Could get over it. Get over a fuck.

_It's just that. Nothing more._

_Sex._

_Pure, basic sex._

Nothing he couldn't handle.

_It's just sex._

“Well, it's been a while, how have you been ?” Roy wanted to punch the man and watch him bleed. Instead, he shifted on the chair, trying to find an enough comfortable position, but his body hurt, every part of him seemed to hurt, and the restraints were tight around his wrists.

Too tight.

“What, now you're giving me the cold shoulder ? Did I do anything to get on your bad side ?” The fucker was just playing with his head, but Roy's glare still intensified.

Hallens chuckled.

“Don't tell me it's because of last time.”

_Shut up shut up shut up._

He wasn't going to talk about this with Liam and Zey here ? He couldn't. Roy didn't need the added humiliation.

Distress flashed through his eyes, which Hallens didn't miss, and the grin on the man's lips turned predatory. Hungry.

“I wouldn't have hurt you. I know what I'm doing, you would've enjoyed it too.”

Roy swallowed bile and stared at a spot on the floor, unable to hold Hallens' gaze anymore.

“You asked for it, remember ?”

No he didn't. He never… Roy didn't ask for it. He couldn't have.

Did he ? He had many holes in his memory over the past few days, and despite everything he remembered, he couldn't help doubt. Doubt what really happened. What he really did. Or asked for.

_I didn't, did I ? I can't-_

Hallens stood up, and the chair squeaked. Roy tensed up. The man walked around him and stopped in his back. Roy's breath caught at the presence so close to him. Threatening him. A breath caressed his neck, and he froze, shivering against his will.

_Get away from me, get away from me-_

“Don't forget, you have it coming.” A hand fell on Roy's shoulder. “Don't think I'm done with you.” The fingers sneaked under the t-shirt's collar, feeling Roy's skin, and he needed all his will power to not react and thrash about.

_Get off me !_

“But for now,” The voice boomed in the room, the previous insinuations no where to be found. “You're going to start talking, or we'll have to get creative.” Roy stiffened, feeling sick. “See this room ?” Hallens, now standing in Roy's line of sight, waved about the room.

Roy refused to take into the display of torture devices and stared at the invisible spot on the floor.

_I won't talk. I won't talk. I can't._

“You'll wish we'd just kept beating your ass.” He said, voice lowering and smirk widening.

Roy tried to get under control the shivers in his body, but they were vicious with a will of their own.

“You think this hurt.” Roy gasped, swallowing a cry of pain, and Hallens' grip on his mangled hand tightened. “Give us a few hours, and you'll wish to be back to your little hole. Your new room's nice, isn't it ?” It was hard to ignore the man crouching beside him, and even more when he was hurting him so much in so many different ways. “I was wondering about improving your stay, and considering your weak health I wasn't left with much of a choice. It was either letting you die in this hole or getting you a new fancy room.”

Roy tried to tune Hallens' voice out, but it was hard. The bastard always managed to catch his attention, and he dread every words that could come out of this man's mouth.

Sometimes, they felt worse than physical torture.

“I would've expected a man of your stature to be stronger, but we've to do with what we've got, right ? And well, it's not like we couldn't afford giving you a bed.” Hallens chuckled, standing up, and Roy nursed his throbbing hand, breath coming out short and heavy. “I trust you to give us what we want soon. Despite what you want people to believe, you're not so tough.” The hand on his shoulder was back as the man leaned closer. “You don't have to pretend here. It's just us, no one will judge you for giving in. No one will have to know.”

_I will._

“I can keep a secret, you know.” He said like a confidence against Roy's ear, and he froze.

Hallens waited for an answer, but when nothing came, he sighed, squeezed Roy's shoulder, said something in his ear and stood up. Roy's breath hitched, his eyes tainted with restrained fear.

“Boys.”

Despite tensing up, Roy didn't fight back against the hands pulling him up on his feet. The chain linked to the manacles around his wrists was unlocked and fell to the floor. Liam and Zey walked him to a spot in the room, before forcing his arms up. Pain shot through his body, and forced to stand on his feet, Roy felt his legs weaken. He could almost feel them shaking under his weight.

The manacles were secured to yet another chain, this one hanging from the ceiling. Roy didn't even have the strength to look up at it. He just stared at his feet, wondering if he would get his shoes back one of these days. The concrete was too cold, and his feet were freezing. He couldn't feel his numbed toes most of the time.

A shadow covered him, and drawing in a breath, Roy couldn't help glance up at Hallens.

“Remember. You just have to talk, and we'll stop.”

Staring at the man, Roy licked his dry lips and swallowed, gathering as much strength as he could for his vocal cords to work.

“Go to hell.”

Hallens' expression slowly morphed into a wicked one, the look in his eyes all Roy needed to know the man enjoyed his resistance and couldn't get enough of it.

Leaning at Roy's ear, he said, “Good answer.” and moved away from his tensed body. “Boys.”

The first blow hit him on the back, and for a second he didn't know what hit him. It didn't feel like a punch, or a kick. It wasn't blunt, but sharp, and vicious.

Another slap of rough rope on his covered back brought him the answer he was looking for, and gritting his teeth on the new torture, he counted every lashes like he used to do at the academy.

_It's nothing new. I can handle it._

 

Liam and Zey kept switching place. Roy now knew Zey was hitting the harder, what with these muscles of his and brute force. It hurt and felt like his skin was ripping from his back every time. He could even bet Zey's lashes bruised more than bled, and it was where the difference came with Liam. The creepy bastard wasn't as strong, but he compensated with viciousness. The bastard knew where to hit to make it hurt, and he had one hell of an aim. Ten times in a row he managed to hit the exact same spot, and Roy thought the skin there was gone. It burnt and throbbed and stung but Liam didn't stop.

He kept coming back to this particular spot he had abused too much already.

And it hurt. It fucking hurt. Roy wanted to scream, to scream and make it stop. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

_I won't break._

By the time the torture became real, Roy could feel the thickness of warm blood on his skin, soaking his shredded shirt and running down inside the hem of his pants. It made him nauseous, but he still refused to scream.

_I won't._

Even if his hair were damped with sweat and sticking to his face and his body shivering too hard, he wouldn't scream. No matter how much it hurt, and how much he just wanted to collapse. He wouldn't scream.

That was, until one particular lash, or maybe it was just the one too many lash, made him lose his balance and all his weight fell on his wrists.

Roy screamed, and it resonated in the room and echoed in his skull.

_Hurts hurts hurts. It hurts, FUCK._

Liam and Zey paused, then went back straight to it. Roy couldn't get back on his feet, no matter how much he tried. Every new lash made his knees buckle under him and his weight fall on his wrists. It was like the broken one was about to tear off.

Despite the agony, he wrapped his hands around the chain and hung there, waiting for the torture to stop and for him to pass out. Everything hurt. Everything burnt. He was agonizing but he couldn't do anything about it.

_Just stop !_

 

He didn't know if he passed out at some point or if the world just dulled away, but he was brought back to present when hands pulled his arms higher, untied the chain holding him and guided him to the floor.

They could have let him fall, but instead they led him down, as if they didn't want him to get hurt.

How ironic.

The bandages on his hands were bloody again. His body was trembling. And Roy wanted to vomit.

“You're really not helping yourself.” Roy closed his eyes at the fingers brushing sweaty bangs out of his face. “Look at you,”

_Get your hands off of me._

“You can't even stand on your own.”

_I'd still burn you alive if I'd my gloves._

“Boys,” Roy couldn't help it, he stiffened at the command. “Take him back, and get the doc. These cuts need to be taken care of.”

Hands hauled him up, and the world distorted before his eyes, making it hard to focus on anything but the throb in his ears.

By the time he was back to his cell, Roy was out cold. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite this story being an overall trigger in quite a few ways, this chapter is THE chapter with the most sensitive topic, so if you're not comfortable with it maybe consider skipping it. I don't like writing rape as some fantasy or smut and I try my best to avoid focusing on the act in itself. My thing is about emotions and reactions, and I always hope to stay true to that (you tell me ;P)  
> That being said, you'll have an insight into our resident bad guy which I hope will give you some answers and be an interesting read.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for the support, this means a lot! I hope you'll enjoy this story till the end.

Mustang was sleeping when Hallens entered the room. Closing the door, he made sure to keep it quiet, wanting to surprise the man. Mustang's torso was wrapped in thick bandage, the ones on his hands now a pristine white again. The hem of his blue pants was soaked through with blood, and Hallens made a mental note to take care of this.

He couldn't let Mustang in bloody attires.

Undoing the first button of his shirt, Hallens stepped closer to the bed, his eyes roaming over the defenseless man lying face down on the mattress. Despite the tortures, he still looked stunning, and Hallens couldn't believe such man was part of the military.

_He's too pretty for that._

He wondered if Mustang was an exception in Amestris' rank, but then remembered this pretty blond the Brigadier General had in his team. She wasn't a usual feminine beauty, but he couldn't disregard her looks either. Though Mustang had something more about him. Maybe his statue made him more appealing, more prone to hurtful desires.

Hallens couldn't deny he wanted to see these dark blues shine with tears and these features shrink in pain and fear. Since he laid eyes on Mustang, he wanted to break him. Make him bleed and watch him suffer. If only for his own sadistic satisfaction.

He wanted this man to hurt and fall. To get where he belonged.

_With a face like his. He doesn't belong in the military. Doesn't belong anywhere but under people._

If Hallens had had a man like Mustang under his command, he wouldn't have let him untouched. Wouldn't have been able to stop himself.

_These kind of people are asking for it. What with their looks and blatant seductive behavior._

Mustang knew what effect he had on others. He played with it, manipulated people with it. His reputation said it all, and Hallens had no hard time believing so.

_He's too dangerous to be left unsupervised. Unleashed._

Hallens couldn't help find it amusing how much freedom Amestris rulers had left to a man like Mustang. Even if his looks blinded them to believe he wasn't a threat, they should have known better. Should have known what someone like him could do. Would do.

_Pretty faces always mean troubles._

Hallens considered it his duty to assure his people's safety, and if he could tame a man like Mustang it would only be beneficial for them.

_Better extinguish the fire before it gets out of control._

Even if Mustang was powerless in this country, he was still a dangerous man. If Hallens hadn't taken care of him he would have managed to get his way around. Would have used this mouth of his to manipulate people and make them believe he wasn't a threat. Hallens knew by experience what those kind of pretty faces and sneaky tongues could do. He had learned the hard way to never get fooled by it ever again.

_I'm breaking them now. Before they can think of using their charms._

Hallens wasn't chosen for this mission for nothing after all. His employers knew who he was, what he was made of. They knew how far he would go and how good he was at what he was doing.

_It's such a shame Mustang won't get through this alive._

He would have enjoyed keeping him around, if only for his own entertainment. But no matter how difficult they made it for the man's team, he knew sooner or later they would figure a way to get to them. They had managed to leave the country just recently after all, despite all their effort to hold them back and keep them here.

They were gone, and Hallens regretted not getting to them sooner. Regretted underestimating them on their own. If he hadn't, they wouldn't have left, and he would have had another leverage to use against Mustang.

Well, what was done was done. His mistake for not taking into enough accounts his employers' warnings. His mistake again for thinking Mustang's team wasn't as functioning without him.

It didn't really matter. He had Mustang, his mission, and he would make sure to take as much from him as he could.

_Maybe I'll get bored before his team even comes around._

It wouldn't be the first time. People tended to get boring once broken. They didn't fight much anymore, didn't represent a challenge anymore.

_They're like docile puppets._

Hallens could ask them to slice their own wrists and they would. And had.

He couldn't help smile at the memory. The girl was such a pretty little thing. A jewel, really. With her white long hair and red piercing eyes. Hallens wasn't fond of traveling much, but the few times he had to, it was beyond expectations. This little jewel was found not long after the Ishbal war. Some few years later. She had flew, alone it seemed, and had been traveling east in search of a refuge. Xing had been her shelter until Hallens found her and brought her home with the promise of a safe place.

How naive of her. She should have known better, considering where she was coming from.

But she trusted him, with some patience, and accepted to come back with him to Tchozo. Hallens wasn't sure at the time what he planned for her, he just knew he wanted to see these white hair covered in blood.

It was beautiful. Everything was beautiful about her, and he was still jerking off at her memory.

Zey called him sick, but the idiot wouldn't know gold if he was face with it. Zey was good for what he was meant for, but besides that, the man was pretty dull. He thought himself tough, but in fact most people cowered before his muscles, and nothing more. They didn't hesitate to insult him in his back. Didn't hesitate to make fun of his lack of intelligence.

Hallens himself always had fun with Liam on the man's expense. They were certainly ones of the rare who could get away with it in Zey's presence.

Smiling, he unbuttoned his shirt and let it open on a tank top. He wasn't as fit as Mustang, but he was defined. His muscles weren't as sharp as the man, but they held power. Besides, it wasn't like Mustang could fight him in his state. Even if he tried.

And, oh boy, Hallens hoped he would.

 

He moved a hand to Mustang's face and lost himself in contemplation. He loved the contrast of their skin color. His tanner tone was glaring against Mustang's white complexion.

_How a man like him can be so beautiful ?_

Brushing some hair out of Mustang's eyes, Hallens smiled, sitting on the bed. The squeak startled Mustang awake, and drawing in a breath, the man blinked once, twice, then drew his attention on Hallens. The look in his eyes was terrific, though he would appreciate more raw fear.

_It'll come. It always does._

Mustang's body tensed, his remaining fingers twitching against the mattress. The deep breath he drew rose his back, the bandages tightening around his torso. And Mustang grimaced, even if the reaction was gone too quickly.

“I told you I would come see you. Were you expecting me ?”

The anger in Mustang's eyes was as satisfying as the pain he was allowing on his features. Hallens could watch it morph from one emotion to the other all day long.

“You look exhausted.” He brushed his hand down Mustang's face, neck and back before stopping at the hem of his pants.

Mustang froze, his eyes clouding and breath hitching.

“You lost weight.” He said, pulling on the loose pants on his hips. “It's barely if it holds on you anymore.”

“Get off me.” Hallens could have missed the rasp if the room wasn't so quiet. And he grinned, searching Mustang's gaze.

The man stubbornly avoided it, and he had to resist clawing at the bandage on his back in retaliation.

“We already went through this. You can't stop me.” He stood up, and Mustang held his breath. “If you want to, go ahead.” Mustang didn't look away from him as he shrugged his shirt off, then pulled his tank top over his head.

Mustang shook, though the reaction didn't last long. Hallens still enjoyed it. Unbuckling his belt, he watched Mustang drew in a breath, fold his arm close to him, fist his hand and press his forehead into the mattress.

“You can't move, can you ?” He said, smirking, and Mustang sucked in another shaky breath. “The pain must be bearable. Doc's little pills can do magics, but it means you're pretty weak. Isn't it ?”

Hallens dropped his pants, kicked his shoes off, unhooked his socks and pulled his brief shorts down.

From the corner of his eyes, Mustang watched him, and confronted to his nudity froze in place and tried to push himself up.

Hallens didn't let him and sat back on the bed, a hand pressing in the middle of Mustang's back. A groan echoed in the room, and he regretted the fact Mustang was so stingy with his reactions. He loved them, and he guessed he would have to work harder to draw more out.

Moving up on the bed, Hallens knelt over one of Mustang's leg and sneaked his hands around his waist. The man pressed himself down, but he was too weak to oppose any real resistance. Yanking Mustang's hips up wasn't much of an effort, just like unbuttoning his pants and sliding them off didn't represent a challenge.

Mustang trembled, his muscles tightening some more. An arm shot down, but he was too slow to catch his pants and hold them up. Hallens smirked, patting the man's hip before rubbing circles on his flesh with his thumb.

Mustang's arm folded back close to him, his fist pressing into the mattress but doing little to get him up.

Next were gone his briefs, and Mustang had never been that vulnerable before him. He took in the view and relished in the sensations of having such powerful man in his total control.

_He's mine. All mine._

Sliding a hand up Mustang's ass to his hip, he squeezed and leaned over, covering Mustang with his shadow. He pressed a hand on the mattress just beside the man's head, then his forearm. He lowered himself between Mustang's legs forced open and made sure to not rest against his back.

Not just yet at least.

“Feels good, doesn't it ?”

Mustang refused to answer and kept his face hidden against the bed. Hallens could deal with it for now. He had all the wanted time to torment him and watch him shatter.

“Now tell me,” He leaned at the man's ear and relished in the shivers against his body. “Have you ever fucked with a man ?”

He was expecting the silence, and though it was annoying, it wasn't enough to anger him. Not just yet. He liked Mustang's stubborn defiance, and he liked stripping him from it.

One layer after the other.

“It's in your own interest to answer me. It'll determinate if I fuck you dry or not.”

Oh fuck, the way Mustang froze and shook under him was incredible. He could have just thrust in and never move again if only to feel these reactions around him.

_It must be amazing._

“Don't.” The shaky reply was delicious, and Hallens couldn't fight the victorious smirk cracking his face.

“Come again ? I'm not sure I heard you.” Mustang trembled again, his respiration coming loud and shaky out of his mouth.

Was he panicking ? He certainly was, and it tasted so good on Hallens' tongue.

“Get off me !” He snapped, jolting up in an attempt to shoulder Hallens off his body. As it turned out, it wasn't much successful, and Hallens' hand shot out and pressed Mustang down by the neck.

He couldn't have him thinking he would go anywhere with his struggles.

“Get off me !” He growled, low and dangerous.

“Dry then.”

Oh my, it was like pressing on Mustang's every buttons at once, and his reaction wasn't disappointing. He bucked up, thrashed about under him and tried to elbow him -his spread legs finding little leverage to be of any real use. Mustang's frustration and desperation grew at the glaring fact he wasn't getting anywhere like this, though it didn't stop him.

“Get the fuck off me !” He roared, hands pressed into the mattress and torso rose as far as Hallens' chest pressed against his back allowed him. “Don't...” He growled, trying to push him away with an elbow in the side.

Hallens was quick to pin his arm down and squeeze his broken wrist.

A gasp was heard, and Mustang froze in pain, his body shaking.

“I would consider calming down if you don't want it to hurt more than it should.”

Mustang's body sunk down on the bed, his head turned to the wall and hidden in part by his shoulder and hand.

“I don't know if you've ever fucked with a man -and I will know really soon, either you tell me or not- but tensing up doesn't make it any better.” Mustang drew in a shaky, shallow breath and shivered, his left hand clenching on the bed's edge.

_Trying to distract yourself, uh ?_

Hallens grinned, shifting against Mustang and relieving some weight from his forearm. It was falling asleep in the position.

“I'll make sure you remember this.” He said, leaning at Mustang's ear, and the dark look was intensified by Mustang's black hair falling in his eyes and shadowing his face.

Hallens shivered, either in nervousness or arousal, and smirked.

“Don't pass out on me.” He said, pecking Mustang's temple before sliding a hand between their bodies.

The man couldn't be more rigid, and Hallens couldn't wait to get a taste of him.

The look on his face was beautiful. This denial and horror emotions Hallens always loved to see on people like Mustang. They could never believe what was happening to them, what would happen. It was so beautiful in its painful rawness.

_They never believe something like that can happen to them, until it does._

 

 

His shoulders hurt. His hands hurt. His wrists hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt, and no position seemed to appease his aching body. With the man on him, it proved itself even harder, and Roy had to focus all his energy on every other pains in his body but the current, assaulting one. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to feel it.

_How can it hurt so much…_

_When is it gonna stop…_

It never seemed to stop. The man seemed to go at him for _hours_ , though Roy knew it couldn't be so long.

_No one can last that long._

It made him nauseous to only think about it, and this man on him, in him, touching him, hurting him, humiliating him wasn't something he could close his eyes on and forget. No matter how much he tried, how much he forced his focus on anything else, it always centered back on what was happening, and it made him sick.

_Stop it. Just stop it._

_Please._

_Just make it stop._

The regular squeak of the bed became a good distraction, once numbness gained over him. It still hurt, still was horrible, but it helped. If only for now. This squeak helped forgetting about the man on him, fucking him.

_It's just sex. Nothing more._

_Just sex._

It didn't feel like _just sex_ , and Roy wanted to throw up at the only association.

_It's not sex. It's nothing like it._

_It hurts. It hurts so much._

_Take me outta here._

Roy tried to swallow, but breathing was already difficult- so swallowing. If he wasn't being careful, a chorus of unwanted noises would escape him, and the last thing he needed was to let this man hear his pain and humiliation.

_I'll die before it happens._

 

He wasn't sure if he passed out or just zoned out, but then he wasn't being pinned on the bed by another body. And he wasn't so full anymore.

_I'm cold._

“Clean him up. And get him some clean clothes.” The voice froze him in place, and sucking in a breath, he tried to hold back the tears in his eyes and control the waves of pain in his body.

The door closed, and Roy didn't know if he was about to be abused again or if someone was even here with him. He was almost certain there was, his instincts told him so, but he refused to look at the door and find out who was here with him.

Not if he was about to get hurt again.

“You're still conscious.”

Liam.

Why it made him so sick in the stomach Roy didn't know, but he caught himself praying it would have been Zey.

Anyone but these two bastards.

“Good, you can take a shower then.” Liam's hand closed around his arm, and Roy froze, struggling to hold back the urge to flinch. “Come on, it's just down the hall.”

Roy didn't want to move. In fact, he didn't want to be awake ever again. Not as long as he was here, with these people.

Jerking his arm free with strength he didn't know he had, Roy pressed himself down on the bed again.

“Don't touch me.” He growled, face against the mattress and fists clenched.

Liam's hand clamped over his arm more tightly, yanking harder.

“Get up !”

“Get the fuck off me !” He lunged at Liam, fist flying for he hoped his face -and cried out in pain, crashing on the floor at the bed's side.

Punching someone with a broken wrist and missing fingers wasn't a good idea. Not a good idea at all.

_Fuck!_

He was going to pass out.

_Yes, please- just take me away._

“You fucking...” The rest got lost to Roy as darkness eventually welcomed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments?  
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and will be curious about the rest. Please, tell me what you think about it. Comments are the best reward for writers and help improve and stay motivated. If you have any question don't hesitate. I hope I didn't make any awful mistakes and if I did, please let me know and I will fix it.


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